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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27214801">Maybe There's Hope</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynstein/pseuds/Brynstein'>Brynstein</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The X-Files</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Episode: s09e19-20 The Truth, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 09, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:29:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27214801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynstein/pseuds/Brynstein</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Starting from the final events of 09x20 The Truth, Mulder and Scully tackle their new reality as fugatives. When they finally settle into things, Scully finds out she is pregnant again.</p><p>A canon divergent AU where I thought, what if Scully got pregnant whilst on the run instead of at the end of season 11?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fox Mulder/Dana Scully</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>161</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Stop and Breathe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Aside from the divergence of the pregnancy, this will follow the script of IWTB, 10, and 11 in a parallel manner. </p><p>Tags will be added, relevant to each chapter.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The long desert roads seemed to stretch lightyears ahead, no scenery, no landmarks, just flat, arid land in all directions. The baked earth was cool in the grey hue of the early morning. Far out, somewhere along the horizon, the sun started to reach up its first fingers to claw at the dawn sky. Chasing those pale blues and purples, the day would soon bleed bright oranges and yellows and colour the earth below. Daybreak felt like an answer to a prayer; the dawn light lifted the oppressive, starless night sky and had cloaked them. Daybreak filled Mulder with a sense of liberty and overwhelming hope for a second chance as invigorating as the breeze outside. It was a miracle that they had made it this far. Mulder was beginning to think he had been executed after all and was caught in limbo, forever driving towards the end of the cold, dark sky. A lost soul wandering aimlessly as punishment for his crimes.</p><p>In his mind, he kept hearing the explosions ring through his hears and the flashes of flame in the rearview mirror. Always in his peripheral, snapshots of the ruins hurtling his way took him by surprise. He glanced at them but as soon as he chased their sight, the apparitions disappeared.</p><p>His father was dead. The smoking son-of-a-bitch should have died a long time ago. Mulder tightened his grip on the staring wheel. Now He haunted his peripheral vision as well, the ghost of his smoke sickly uncurling in the back seats of the stolen car. His fathers, his sister, his mother, Emily, the Gunmen: all dead. How many did he have left to lose?</p><p>He swallowed thickly and looked over at Scully in the passenger seat, her head lolled to one side and her lips parted to utter the tiniest of snores. A tiny damp patch on her shoulder marked where she had drooled throughout the night– something she most adamantly didn't do. Caught in the first glowing rays of the sun, Mulder had never seen her so beautiful, frizzy hair and all. He placed a hand upon her knee, a poor substitute for all the embraces he wished to share with her.</p><p>Scully stirred from her light sleep, groaning and stretching like old wood as she straightened herself. Her blinks were laboriously heavy, weighed down by the stress of the last twenty-four hours. Mulder hadn't meant to wake her but didn't miss the opportunity to share the day with her. "Hey, Scully, look at the sunrise," he whispered.</p><p>She groggily hummed, appreciating the myriad of colours. Voice still thick with sleep, she asked, "Where are we?"</p><p>"Not sure," he answered, tapping the dial for the gas to see if the needle was lying.</p><p>Scully curled up as much as she could in the seat and turned to gaze out of the window, watching the little rocks and pebbles flew past in a blur along the roadside. "Where are we going?"</p><p>He glanced at her, then back towards the horizon racing as quickly away from them as they chased after it. "Don't know. But if we don't know, at least nobody else knows either." It was meant to make her smile, but all she did was frown. With no one and nothing around them, the faux safety of the nowhere between lands scared Scully. As if somehow it was a trap they were being lulled into; a false sense of security. She knew they needed to be wary at all hours, every ticking second of the day and every tock of the clock at night. She reminded herself there was no safe place to hide and no time to catch their breath. But it was all so exhausting.</p><p>"How long have you been driving?" She craned her neck to see the bags under his eyes. Mulder had pulled all-nighters before, and it wasn't like he was never subject to bouts of insomnia, but the restless worry was the worst thing. She could see it was eating him up from the inside, not fear for himself but for her, that she had chosen this life with him again. And now he could barely offer her an existence. She wanted to tell him that it didn't matter– she'd make the same decision twice, a thousand times, but that wouldn't allay the worry. Reality had punched him in the face and marked him with two shiners.</p><p>"Ten hours or so," he said as if it was still the first half an hour.</p><p>Scully sat up in her seat. "You should take a rest. Let me drive."</p><p>"No." Mulder shook his head with pursed lips and then chuckled. "You should sleep while you can. We both know me resting is pointless."</p><p>She smiled sorrowfully, looking at her hands rested in her lap. She sighed. "None of this feels real does it?"</p><p>Squeezing her knee, Mulder spoke honestly, as soft and as mellow as the sunlight on the horizon. "You are real to me right here and now. That's all I need to get through this."</p><p>But Scully didn't ask what this was and when it would be over. She only knew she was already counting down the days. But the end was intangible and far out of sight, and counting was hopeless when it felt like starting at infinity. The one thing Scully knew for certain was that an irrevocable change had already occurred and she blinked and she missed it. She had been fighting for them, pleading for them. Just her and Mulder: that was all she wanted. And then this shift they had taken on in the last couple of days– such a short time– and she was not sure she wanted it anymore. She was beginning to get that tangy taste in her mouth like she was mourning the past and who they used to be.</p><p>Scully took a deep breath. Willing the sting away from her eyes, she expelled the air caught in her lungs, imagining the ache in her body fused to the carbon dioxide molecules and expelled also. Focusing on the sunrise, she found beauty in its nature, reminding herself of the beauty of them; all the times he had made her giggle, made her cry, made her roll her eyes.</p><p>Mulder could see Scully thinking, the lost look in her eye more familiar to him than the back of his own hand. Her silence spoke louder than any response; it whispered to him exactly what was on her mind. He knew it because he felt it too. He gently took one of the hands from her lap and held it.</p><p>The touch made Scully gasp softly, breaking her from the melody of her thoughts. It was as if he had somehow heard them. Of course, he had; they might have changed but somethings always stayed the same. Scully realised she needed him close now more than ever if she was to stand a chance of surviving. Squeezing his hand, she let him in. She missed this telepathy of theirs; messages like electricity passed through their neurons and chemically encoded between the synapse of their touch. They operated on the same electromagnetic wavelength. She smiled and squeezed his hand again.</p><p>Mulder glanced back to the gas needle, edging steadily lower. "How much money did Walter manage to get for us?"</p><p>"I haven't counted, but it won't last long anyway."</p><p>Fortunately, Scully had had the sensibility to keep the cash on her person. It was all they had left aside the clothes on their backs. Their coats and the change of clothes that were hastily packed were still in the car that Monica and Doggett had driven away and they all knew it was too dangerous now to risk meeting up.</p><p>"The next motel we come across, we'll book in–"</p><p>She looked at him cautiously.</p><p>"– Just for the night. We won't stay long, just so we can sleep on a proper bed."</p><p>"So we can stop and catch our breath," she concluded, though doubtful, running her thumb over every hill and valley of his knuckles.</p><p>"So we can catch our breath," he agreed.</p><p>The hum of the tires picking up dust and the voice of the engine marked their silence. Their long, drawn-out breaths were comforting, yet the quiet was ominous, allowing thoughts to grow like tumours, hanging uneasily between them. They had each other but what if they weren't strong enough? Mulder would have said something– anything to break the tension, but all his thoughts were made of what-ifs, and voicing them, he feared, would make them real.</p><p>Scully curled up again, protecting herself against the miasma of the silence. Concentrating on the tide of Mulder's breathing, she found a calming rhythm, watching his chest rise and fall. Knowing he was there, she managed to find peace enough to steal an hour or so more sleep.</p><p>Over the horizon came a small, dark dot, growing in size and detail. Mulder leaned forward, squinting through the dust on the windscreen. As it came approached, he thanked Scully's God for gifting an oasis. The gas station looked beaten and worn down but promised life and provisions. He made the quick decision to stop and top up on gas, water, and something for breakfast. Looking at Scully one last time, he saw her sleeping; the quiver of her eyelashes somehow anxious even during sleep. He killed the engine and got out to check the store.</p><p>It was still: quieter than Scully remembered it being. Blinking tiredly, she picked the sleepy dust from her eyes and groaned. She gasped sharply, the sight of the empty seat next to her sending her heart aflutter. She grappled at her belt for the gun she no longer had. Cursing, she ran out of the car. The beat of her feet on the ground rivaled the pound of the war drum on her chest. "Mulder?" she called but was met with no reply. "Mulder!"</p><p>Mulder came quickly through the door, a finger pressed to his lips and a brown bag in his hand. "Shh, Scully," he whispered. "It's alright. I was just getting some gas."</p><p>It was then that Scully noticed the row of pumps they were parked next to. She looked away and licked the corner of her mouth, embarrassed that she had failed to correctly assess the situation before leaping to conclusions. It was so unlike her. She was frustrated she had let fatigue and worry manipulate her so easily. It had been less than two days.</p><p>"I could have got us caught," she breathed, shaking her head in disbelief. "How could I have been so stupid?"</p><p>"Hey, none of that now." Mulder rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. He guided her back towards the car, his palm at the small of her back like a steady rudder. "We're in the middle of nowhere, nobody is going to find us out here," he calmed her, even though his heart was still racing; the fright in her shouts had shot ice through his spine.</p><p>Scully slumped into her seat, the faux safety of no-man's-land nagging at her still. "Mulder, you know better than anybody they have eyes and ears everywhere."</p><p>"Let me do the worrying for once, Scully. This one's on me."</p><p>She shook her head– she wouldn't let him bare this on his own; they were in this together. It made a small smile creep across Mulder's lips and in return Scully's brow furrowed in confusion.</p><p>"How can either of us win when we are both so stubborn?" he laughed, and Scully chuckled too. "I spoke to the owner and he said that if we head southwest, sorta back along the trail, we will end up in Rosswell by nightfall. They'll have a motel–"</p><p>"And we can breathe," she nodded, then smirked. "You just wanted to see the UFO sight, didn't you?"</p><p>"Maybe," he sheepishly replied. "I got you some of that fat-free yogurt you like for breakfast. And some bagels. You should eat something; we didn't eat all day yesterday."</p><p>Scully hadn't noticed. The gnawing of worry in her stomach had sated any appetite she might have had. She still wasn't hungry now, but the doctor in her knew she had to eat something, however hard it was going to be.</p><p>Much of the day was spent watching the sun rise overhead and munching on bagels. Scully scolded Mulder when he dipped one of his into the yogurt she had barely touched and Mulder lectured Scully about eating enough. By the time the sun began to set, they had arrived in Roswell and found a motel to stay the night. Clouds were rolling in, covering the skies from the farthest corners, and the threat of rain could be smelt on the air.</p><p>Unlocking the door, they both stepped inside a minimal, but pleasant room. Scully clenched her hands around phantom luggage itching her palms. She had the urge to unpack everything into the dresser like she always did, like on their very first case together. She peered around the door to the ensuite, seeing rows of tiny bottles and an inviting robe hung elegantly, yet groaned.</p><p>"Mulder, we are going to have to go back out for toothbrushes."</p><p>"Oh, hang on..." He rummaged through the paper bag, producing two brushes and a tube of paste. "I picked some up earlier. Sorry, they might have some bagel crumbs on."</p><p>She took them with a grin, standing on her tiptoes to press a grateful kiss to his cheek. "You're a lifesaver."</p><p>Mulder watched her disappear into the bathroom, giving her some privacy and himself some time to think. He sat on the floor, watching the rain begin to fall and the wind pick up, whipping the trees outside. Gazing out of the window, he imagined the brewing storm an omen, but one of hope. All the good things that had happened to him had been christened by torrents of rain and swirls of wind and wisps of Scully stealing small pieces of his heart: their first assignment together; their first night spent together. The weather brought the ships to port and Scully to him. Beyond the clouds he pictured his sister in the starlight twinkling brightly. He hoped his mother was up there too, keeping a watch over them both.</p><p>Suddenly, he smelt the smoke, saw it plume from the chair in the corner. He gritted his teeth. Of all the people that could appear to him...</p><p>
  <em>She's been up there for a long time, you know. I thought you would have figured it out sooner.</em>
</p><p>Mulder dug his fingernails into his palms, sure the pain would snap him awake.</p><p>
  <em>She saw the world for what it truly was: there's no justice... there's no cruelty either. There's simply survival. In the end, she chose not to survive. She had a choice, Mulder, what do you get? </em>
</p><p>Maybe it was all in his head. If he tried hard enough, he could make the nightmare disappear. </p><p><em>What did your crusade reap you? The Truth? </em>he chuckled. <em>Was it the truth you wanted; expected? </em>He leaned forward out of the shadow, his dead eyes gleaming in the light. <em>Truth</em><em> is not power, in fact, it's quite the opposite: truth makes you powerless. It's been quite the burden on me; perhaps that's why I smoke so many. </em>He slyly smiled around a wreath of white cloud.<em> You should try it.</em></p><p><em>In the end, we all lose. That's the beauty of survival: it's only ever a temporary thing. The date is set,</em> <em>son. Nothing, not even you, can change that. </em></p><p>Fury burning through him, Mulder lept up like a lit match to a gas lamp. "And what would you know?! What did you ever try to do about it?!"</p><p>He lunged for the man, desperate to squeeze the last, dying breaths from his corpse once and for all. But as he was about to lay his hands on his sickly throat, the son-of-a-bitch dissipated as thin as the smoke he breathed, elusive in death as he had been in life. It seemed fitting. Curling his fingers through nothing but cool air, Mulder slumped back in defeat. Biting his fingernail, he thought about the truth about who he was. It occurred to him that he was lost without purpose. Although he didn't feel it yet, he recognised the impending dawn of realisation and feared it. He threw his hand out in frustration.</p><p>The truth was he had failed.</p><p>He hadn't exposed the conspiracy or brought down its organisations. He hadn't found Samantha. He hadn't been a father to William. And he hadn't been there for Scully.</p><p>The trees shook their disapproval, condemning the guilty man.</p><p>Mulder rested his head back on the mattress like he was treading dangerous waters, but his arms were limp over his knees, merely reticent about his fate. Looking back across the room, he saw Scully walk in smelling sweetly of lavender soap and looking angelic in the pale, dilapidated light. She sat on the edge of the bed, gently running her fingers through his hair and watching the storm in unison. He moved into her touch, shifting to rest his cheek against her thigh. They sat like for a while in companionable silence, reassuring one another through their touches.</p><p>When Scully crawled up the bed to lie down, she expected him to follow. When he didn't she asked, "what are you thinking? Mulder?"</p><p>"I'm thinking... I'm a guilty man. I've failed in every respect. I deserve the harshest punishment for my crimes."</p><p>Hearing the echo, Scully was thrown back to the concrete cell when he first said those words. She could tell, then, there had been a hollow complacency to his tone. Now, she only heard a conviction in his voice. It terrified her. Scully had only just broken him free of where he was being tortured, she couldn't let it live on inside of him. So, she did what she always did: countered Mulder with any sane argument she could think of.</p><p>"You don't believe that."</p><p>He was sure that he had failed as he was sure of anything. If he told Scully that it was her he had failed, she would refuse to believe him and refuse to let him believe it too. But it was true. And he dared not mention all the ways he had failed their child. Mulder sighed. "I believe that I sat in a motel room like this with you when we first met, and I tried to convince you of the truth. And in that respect, I succeeded, but... in every other way..." He thought of William swaddled in his arms when he held him for the first time– only time. He swallowed the burgeoning lump in his throat. "I've failed."</p><p>"You don't believe that either."</p><p>"Mm," he disagreed. His jaw was set. Thoughts pounded in his chest but every time he chose something to say it died a whisper caught in his throat. He finally settled for something unimportant, yet still a truth neither of them could refute. "I've been chasing after monsters with a butterfly net." He took a breath and tried again "You heard the man– the date's set. I can't change that." I can't save us. I can't make the world a better place for our son, he didn't say. </p><p>Scully wanted to shout at him that this wasn't who he was, he didn't quit so easily, he always found something worth fighting for, but she knew if she did that she would lose him forever. Taking a steadying breath, she composed herself. Keeping her voice measured, she told him what she wanted to be true. "You wouldn't tell me. Not because you were afraid or broken... but because you didn't want to accept defeat."</p><p>"Well... I was afraid of what knowing would do to you. I was afraid that it would crush your spirit." He looked into her eyes and saw a pained, mirrored reflection. In some ways, he was glad Cancer-man had told her because he could never bring himself to trample her hope, not when things were already so dire. It would break his heart.</p><p>Mulder's gaze held her fast and was as deep and cutting as the love she felt. He looked young and small and innocent like he was clutching those cloth hearts. Even then he was undeterred, never willing to give up hope.</p><p>"Why would I accept defeat? Why would I accept it if you won't?" Scully needed him to keep fighting. If he didn't, she would surely give in. "Mulder, you say that you've failed, but you only fail if you give up. And I know you-- you can't give up... It's what I saw in you when we first met. It's why I followed you. Why I'd do it all over again."</p><p>"And look what it's gotten you," he murmured.</p><p>"And what has it gotten you? Not your sister. Nothing that you've set out for. But you won't give up, even now." She took his hand, gently squeezing, hoping their neurons would connect and renew their telepathy. "You've always said that you want to believe. But believe in what, Mulder? If this is the truth you've been looking for, then what is there left to believe in?"</p><p>He glanced at the chair still coiled in that foul aroma, thought of his sister living on as bright starlight, or else he had become the thing he feared: delusional, proving all the whispered rumours true. He suspected it was the trauma or remnants from his brain disease that caused the visions, but that's not what he wanted to believe.</p><p>"I believe that... the dead are not lost to us. That they speak to us as part of something greater than us– greater than any alien force." He thought of Byers, Langley, Frohike, even Krycek. "And if you and I are powerless now, I want to believe that if we listen to what's speaking, it can give us the power to save ourselves."</p><p>"Then we believe the same thing."</p><p>Taking her cross between his finger and thumb, Mulder examined it twinkling in the streetlight made shadowy by rain. He never considered himself a religious man, could never find any divine meaning to all the heartache he had suffered. Then life had brought him Scully with her science and her faith and her love. Maybe he could believe. His thumb traveled to her lips, marveling in the warmth of her; how alive they were. When she pressed the smallest of kisses to his digit, his world shattered with clarity. He joined her like a moth to a flame, helplessly wrapping himself around her like a life ring. She lay under the crook of his nose and he anchored them together with his knee over her hip.</p><p>"Maybe there's hope," he breathed.</p><p>Scully brushed her nose along his, nuzzling like she was nodding in agreement. The hand that Mulder had nestled in the hollow of her waist repeated the motion, climbing up the side of her ribs and abseiling down, friction warming the embers of their affection. Trailing his fingers higher, he followed the swoop of her hair behind her ear, tucking the locks into place. The edge of her jaw now held delicately beneath his fingertips, he looked to her eyes, the clear crystal blue pulling that familiar tug on his heartstrings. If it was possible, Scully shifted closer. She tilted her head, lips locking onto his once, chastely making herself known to him again. And then again, he searched her out to reply with his own tender kiss. Settling into one another's arms, their gazes fell upon the smile in each's eyes, finding an easy lull.</p><p>Scully witnessed the universe turn around in his beautiful mind. The flick of his eyes now quieter, softening from tiredness and tranquility, belayed newfound contentment. Staving off her own sleep, she saw his heavy eyelids droop and close, his breathing even out, and his form relax. She pulled him closer, buried herself in his comforting smell, watched over him– his protector.</p><p>The relentless pellets of rain struck percussion against the thin roof above them. Outside, the wind picked up in moaning gale. Inside, Scully breathed, sinking further into the hold of her partner and into the grips of sleep.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Like They Used to</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Scully woke up first and smiled despite herself. The warmth of the sun streaming through the window made her skin tingle, washing her of the pain the previous night. Eyes still closed, she hummed, rubbing small circles through the fine hair on Mulder's forearm. She must have turned over in the night, her back now nestled into his chest and his arm wrapped around her, cocooning her in his warmth. His breathing was still low and deep from sleep. She leaned into the rise and fall of his chest, his strength gentle like the lap of the sea at the sand. She imagined the steady beat of his heart like the sweep of a lighthouse in the dark, the guiding metronome she followed. If it wasn't for the fact they had fallen asleep in yesterday's clothes atop of a motel bed, Scully could have kept playing pretend like it was two years ago on one of their lazy Saturday mornings they had made a habit of. If she didn't open her eyes, maybe she could stay in that fantasy a little longer: she would kick Mulder out of his bed to make a pot of coffee whilst she snuggled deeper into the sheets. He'd come back with two steaming mugs and they'd sit together reading (she, her book and him, another X File). She'd enjoy teasing him, telling him that the weekend was for relaxing and not for work.</p><p>
  <em>"I am relaxing!" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"No, you're not."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Yes, I am." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Prove it."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Does Agent Dana Katherine Scully always need proof for anything I do?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'm still waiting." </em>
</p><p>And then he would tickle her legs under the covers with his feet, almost making her spill her drink. Or he would kiss her just to prove a point. Or both.</p><p>Scully bit her lip to stifle a laugh at the memories. Opening her eyes, she let reality flood in. It wasn't two years ago, back when things seemed simpler, but it did feel like a Saturday morning– it might well have been, she had already lost track of the days. She turned awkwardly in Mulder's arms, one of them still a dead weight over her, and traced his laugh lines with her eyes. In the brightness of the morning, she could see the bags under his eyes weren't so heavy. He looked rested and happy, the natural curve of his mouth pulling upwards into a soft smile. She cupped his jaw, stroking his cheek with her thumb, feeling the rough grain of his five o'clock shadow. When he didn't stir, she placed kisses to his stubbled jawline, waking him up the way she used to on a Saturday.</p><p>With his eyes closed, Mulder mumbled in his deep, sleepy baritone, "Hello."</p><p>"Hi," she whispered back.</p><p>He opened his eyes to see her face waiting, almost expectantly, mere inches from his. "Do you want me to make the coffee?"</p><p>She smirked, wriggling closer. "I want you in bed with me."</p><p>"We might have to actually get in it then."</p><p>Scully frowned, displeased with the idea of moving. Mulder laughed at her tiny pout and smoothed her wrinkled forehead under his thumb. Lifting her by the elbow, he prompted her to get up so they could pull the cover back and climb in.</p><p>"Are you okay?" he asked.</p><p>"Hmm. You?"</p><p>"Yes." He tucked an imaginary stray hair behind her ear, finding any excuse to touch her. She held his hand in place by her cheek, making sure he wouldn't let go, and sighed, his larger hand holding her, comforting her, protecting her. A grin too wide for his own good appeared across his face when he understood her meaning. Scully rolled her eyes and kissed the silly grin from him.</p><p>It was a sweet kiss that steadily grew into something more. Mulder leisurely explored the taste of her lips and she opened up to the feeling, tasting his tongue playfully in return. When he moaned, she giggled, pressing their foreheads together and licking her lips. Her tongue had subconsciously traveled her lower lip, savouring the warmth he had left there, but seeing his gaze fixed to her mouth, she took her lip between her teeth just for show.</p><p>"You're such a tease," he chuckled.</p><p>"And you're not?" Scully looked into his hazel eyes, the familiar feeling of being lost in them, inching up her spine.</p><p>Mulder kissed her in reply: a full, heated kiss that put to rest any questions about who was the tease.</p><p>Scully combed her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, bringing them closer with her leg hooked over his hip. She would have giggled again at the roughness of his jeans against her smooth skin– a reminder of their strange situation– but she felt too good to stop kissing. He was awakening parts of her that she hadn't known in years; fuzzy warmth tingling through all of them to the tips of her fingers and toes. When he slipped the gown from her shoulders, his fingertips lightly tickling her skin, she didn't complain.</p><p>Mulder stopped to look at her: red, plush lips, misty blue eyes, hair somehow still immaculate. He felt his heart clench with that indescribable feeling. Returning his palm to her cheek, he tried to touch the sensation, make it tangible, and better comprehend it. Scully nuzzled into him and he realised that he would never understand how he was worthy of such love, especially the highest pedigree that was Scully's love. He was just grateful to know it.</p><p>He trailed his fingers over her shoulder, drawing patterns between the dusting of her freckles. Her pale skin glowed in the morning light; her hair caught like a halo of fire too. Resting his hands at the knot of her tie, Mulder cautiously looked up, asking silent permission to undress her completely. With a small simper, Scully nodded slowly. He pulled the robe from her and threw it haphazardly to the corner of the room.</p><p>"That's not even the corner with the chair in," she laughed.</p><p>"I know."</p><p>Scully kicked the covers down and Mulder nudged her onto her back, kissing his way down her neck. He pressed his lips to every inch of her skin, licking and nibbling until she was squirming and giggling. He was methodical, remembering all the points that made her moan and all the places that made her gasp like their relationship was still green. It was about the only thing he did methodically.</p><p>Upon reaching her breasts, he sat up and sighed, holding both of them in his hands. Gently palming them, he watched Scully bite her lip in anticipation and her nipples harden further as he swiped his thumbs across them. Leaning down, he pushed them together, first drawing his nose up the valley and then his tongue, blowing cool air on her wet skin afterwards.</p><p>Scully involuntarily arched her back when she felt his mouth swirl around one nipple. And then the other. Bolts of lightning shot to her core, warming her in that way that left a delicious, hazy ache in its wake. Eyes closed, she bit back a whimper, smiling, having missed the feeling for so long.</p><p>A different kind of ache began to settle in her breast and she tugged Mulder up, smirking at his glistening lips, to distract herself. His eyes, though dark, grew soft with concern.</p><p>"I need you up here with me," she answered.</p><p>"Of course," he smiled, crawling back up to her.</p><p>She pulled his t-shirt over his head and threw it perfectly into the chair. He stopped and laughed, shaking his head. His breath hitched when her hand palmed him through his pants. She wasted no time, deftly undoing them and pulling them down his thighs. He helped her the rest of the way and chucked them in a pile on top of his t-shirt.</p><p>"One-all," he grinned. "Looks like we drew."</p><p>She cupped his face– "We'll have to find a way to settle the score then." and kissed him, giving him as good as he gave.</p><p>Mulder shuffled awkwardly and Scully broke away, raising an eyebrow. He held up his boxers and waved them like a victory flag.</p><p>"Da-nah!" He scrunched them up and flung them to the chair with the others. "Two-one: I guess, I win."</p><p>"As referee, I disqualify that one."</p><p>"You're just a sore loser."</p><p>"I'm just trying to level the playing field."</p><p>"Do I still get to play?"</p><p>"Mhmm." She claimed his lips, burning with need, and let her hands wander the expanse of his back.</p><p>He rolled them over, so he was gazing up at Scully in all her beauty, her now longer hair cascading around her face, framing her features in fiery ribbons. He liked it longer, it reminded him of when she had first introduced herself to him. He had been so naive then to think she was on anybody's side but his. And she was still with him even now.</p><p>Yet she hesitated. The smile falling from her eyes was replaced with something unreadable that scared him.</p><p>"Scully?"</p><p>"Please... Please could you be on top?" she asked.</p><p>"Yeah." He let her climb off and lie down next to him, seeing her visibly relax as she laid her head down beside his, a meek smile at the corners of her mouth. He brushed her hair behind her ear again, repeating the soothing motion. "Okay?"</p><p>"Yeah, I just..." Being in charge of the situation, she felt that other ache deepen into something akin to dread. She couldn't place it and didn't know how to begin describing it to him as much as she wanted to. "... Don't want to be on top," she concluded.</p><p>"We don't have to–"</p><p>"No, it's not that." She shook her head and simpered, playing with his thatch of chest hair. Sighing, she ran her hands down further and told him a half-truth to ease his worry. "I'd rather feel you closer to me."</p><p>Mulder groaned when she held him and began running her fist up and down his shaft. She chuckled at how quickly she could elicit a response from him.</p><p>"Still want to play?" she asked.</p><p>"If you do."</p><p>Mulder waited for her to nod before moving ontop, cupping her face as she guided him home. He watched Scully bite her lip as he pushed in slowly, taking the time to savour every moment of her expression. She looked up at him with clear crystal eyes and he felt that tether between them strengthen.</p><p>"Hello," she whispered, pushing his hair up off his face. She kissed him, reveling in the searing heat they created between their bodies.</p><p>"Hi," he chuckled. "Okay?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>He pushed languidly in and out of her, finding an easy rhythm like the gentle strength of the tide. They made love lazily, playfully– like they used to on their Saturday mornings– until the waves crested and crashed and he felt her shudder beneath him. He followed her, tumbling off the cliff, buried in her scent, her heat, her hair, her being.</p><p>Scully still clutching at his back, pressed his weight into her chest, fingernails digging in slightly. She was panting beneath him, so Mulder moved to give her some room to breathe, but she pulled him closer.</p><p>"Stay," she huskily implored him.</p><p>"I'm crushing you, Scully."</p><p>"Mhmm," she agreed, smiling shyly, distracting herself.</p><p>Mulder kissed her temple and nuzzled deeper into the swathes of her hair splayed across the pillow; the smell of her– them– as addictive as it had ever been. They stayed curled tightly around one another for a while until Scully softened her grip and let him go to the bathroom. He returned a few moments later with a warm washcloth and handed it to her. Enamoured, he watched her clean between her thighs, thinking it might be his favourite part of Saturday mornings. A close second then.</p><p>"I was gonna jump in the shower now; you wanna join me?"</p><p>She looked up and handed him the cloth back. "No, that's okay. You go ahead."</p><p>She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, lips pressed into a thin smile that he assumed was meant to reassure him, but the detached look in her eye only made him anxious. Dejected that she didn't want his company, that she felt she couldn't share her trouble with him, Mulder nodded and went into the ensuite alone.</p><p>Scully sighed after he closed the door, cursing the heavy weight in her chest. It was like God couldn't let her have one moment of happiness without somehow tainting it, reminding her that her current situation wasn't happy, making her feel guilty if she found a small quantum pocket of joy. One arm wrapped around her naked waist, the other fiddling with her pendant, she huffed, pushing down the feelings, disregarding them as immature. She padded barefoot over to the chair, picking up her discarded robe on the way. She folded each garment neatly, placing them on the arm, apart from his t-shirt, which she wore. Clutching the collar to her nose, she inhaled the distinct smell of Mulder and sleep, dragging her back into that dream of lazy Saturday mornings. Whilst she was waiting, she made the bed: plumped up the pillows, straightened out and tucked in the comforter, even though she knew the sheets needed changing. It was just something to do to keep her occupied– she feared those emotions would rise to the surface given half a chance.</p><p>With nothing left to do, Scully found her thoughts scarily empty, instead only a feeling a magnetism drawing her towards the bathroom. Before she knew it, she had already turned the handle of the door and found herself sitting on the edge of the tub, watching Mulder run soap through his hair. She couldn't tell if it was the steam that was soothing, or if just being in Mulder's presence calmed her, but when he grinned upon seeing her, she smiled too.</p><p>He saw she was wearing his t-shirt that was ten sizes too big for her, the hem reaching halfway down her thighs. He hummed appreciatively. "I see my shirts have got joint custody again."</p><p>A simper played across her lips, but she ignored the comment. "We need to get some clothes, even if it's one set that we wash and wear alternatingly."</p><p>"I don't mind having only one shirt if it always smells of you." His voice was plain and candid and Scully couldn't tell if he was being serious, though he probably was.</p><p>"Practically speaking, Mulder, you would."</p><p>He shrugged. "I'm sure I could live with the burden."</p><p>He emptied an entire one of the travel bottles of shower gel into his palm and struggled to keep a hold of it all.</p><p>"Jesus, Mulder!" Scully laughed. "You don't need that much."</p><p>"You gonna help me with it then?" he cheekily grinned.</p><p>Mocking reluctance, Scully undressed and joined him under the shower spray.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. All the Colours Cannot Brighten</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Scully shuffled awkwardly, walking into the department store, having foregone underwear. Currently, it was at the top of her mental list as she tried to discreetly pull her slacks down to stop the seam irritating her. Mulder's hand was at home on her back, to make matters worse, the usually comforting gesture making it more difficult to shift her pants.</p><p>Mulder chuckled quietly, seeing her fidget. She elbowed him to remind him he was in the exact same situation and it wouldn't be hard to exacerbate it if she wanted to. He squeezed her hip in apology, but she could still feel him laughing.</p><p>Leaning up, Scully whispered in his ear, "This needs to be quick. There are security cameras everywhere; we don't want to increase our chances of being recognised." Her pulse quickened at the prospect. "So, a set of clothes, toiletries, and we get out."</p><p>He nodded. "We should split up to save time."</p><p>"Agreed."</p><p>They parted without a single word more, Scully heading up the stairs to the women's and children's section and Mulder staying in the men's. She watched him, as she climbed the stairs, grow smaller and out of sight, feeling that gnawing in her stomach swell in his absence. Sucking in a breath, she focused her mind and steeled herself for the rest of the operation.</p><p>On the second floor, Scully was greeted with a bombardment of bright colours. Keeping her head low, she ignored gaiety and headed straight to the lingerie section, picking up the first packet of black briefs she found in her size. Practicality over style reminded her of her childhood, her father's strict orders, how she both embraced, and rebelled. She was conscious of that storm brewing in her again. With her plain clothes, she could hide from the world and its prying eyes. Yet a niggling thought told her that no-one would notice if she picked out some lace, no-one would see beneath her exterior armour: she could have something for herself again. She brushed her fingers over the delicate material, daring to imagine the power she could have. A small piece of control regained. Perhaps she could banish her contrition from the bedroom. Take control.</p><p>Ultimately, she left the lace behind, opting to match her plain briefs with a couple of plain t-shirt bras; the peril of public exposure was starting to take its toll. Every tick of the clock marked a drip of anxiety pooling in her lungs and the water levels steadily rising. Time was marching on.</p><p>Just socks, t-shirts, jeans, a coat, and maybe a jumper. She wondered if it looked suspicious buying a whole wardrobe in one, but was too drained already to consider changing tactics.</p><p>She grabbed a pack of socks whilst hunting for some t-shirts and jeans.</p><p>Two t-shirts: checked.<br/>One pair of jeans: checked.</p><p>Coat.</p><p>Scully wandered surreptitiously through the floor, doubtful it would have a waterproof, when she stumbled upon tiny hats and boots.</p><p>Her insides crumbled.</p><p>It had been so long since she'd set foot in this section, buying small clothes to wrap her small child snuggly in. He would be a year old now, she reminded herself, learning to walk, starting to babble. Walking slowly, as if in a dreamlike state, she found herself subconsciously heading for the 12-18 months; no control over the path her feet chose. She was surrounded by a sea of cotton soft baby clothing: yellow cardigans, baby blue t-shirts, miniature dungarees... She imagined his ginger hair in a red sunhat. He'd be a year old now, Scully reminded herself as she picked up a white whale soft toy. It was something that she could have bought for his birthday and watch him chew the tail off when he was teething; tuck him into bed with and read bedtime stories.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Mulder went upstairs to find Scully, having got all he needed. Not finding her anywhere obvious, he started to panic.</p><p>"Sc–" he called, but his mouth closed around her name, stopping himself, aware of the crowd of other shoppers who would easily hear him. Forced into silence, he picked up the pace, scanning all the rows of clothes for his familiar sign of red hair.</p><p>
  <em>They are coming for you, son...</em>
</p><p>The sound of his pounding feet was mimicked by the rush of blood in his ears.</p><p>
  <em>If you want my advice... leave your pretty, little partner... </em>
</p><p>He felt dizzy and disoriented, not knowing where to look or which way to turn.</p><p>
  <em>get out of there while you still can...</em>
</p><p>He heard the giggle of a child cut through his mind with clarity but he dismissed it. After all, this was a department store, not a house haunted by unexplained phenomena; he had left those behind in his past. Yet he heard it again, closer, and he could have sworn it was from inside his head.</p><p>He stopped and turned around slowly.</p><p>Mulder saw that familiar red hair, peeking out from behind a rail, only it was more of a strawberry blonde and just above knee height. He crouched down to see her properly, but she moved away, only her blue eyes fixing sharply on his through the clothing.</p><p>"Em?" he whispered.</p><p>She made no response but turned away around the corner.</p><p>When Mulder rounded the corner himself, she was already at the other end, turning another, her bob of hair only there for a flash before she disappeared. He followed her winding trail, curious where she was leading him, until she stopped, standing next to someone, trying to tug at her shirt.</p><p>"Sc– Dana," he smiled, using her given name under some perceptive veil that it was safer. Emily nodded shyly. "You found her."</p><p>Scully turned around, still clutching the white whale. "What? Mulder? What are you doing here?"</p><p>"E–" He looked to Scully's side where Emily had just been but now was nowhere to be seen. "... I came to find you," he said, which was true, he just didn't want to unravel the traumatised inner workings of his brain in the middle of the baby section.</p><p>Then he realised where they were; where Scully had been; what Scully was holding in her hand.</p><p>"Dana," he whispered, a lump of worry caught in his throat, distorting his voice.</p><p>Scully looked down at the stuffed toy in her hands like she had her hand caught in the cookie jar. "We didn't buy him anything for his first birthday..." she tried to explain.</p><p>He wordlessly took the whale from her grasp and put it in the basket with the rest of his clothes like it already belonged.</p><p>She shook her head, searching his eyes for some understanding. "No, we can't... The money... We can't afford–"</p><p>"Yes we can," he interrupted her. Everybody grieved in their own way; maybe it could soothe him too. "Toiletries and then we're out of here," he reminded her.</p><p>"I haven't got a coat yet. Though, I think we're better off getting blankets for the car."</p><p>"You find the toiletries, I'll get the blankets. Meet back... by the stairs?"</p><p>Scully sighed.</p><p>Mulder stepped closer, wishing he could vanquish her hurt. "You sure you're okay, S–?"</p><p>"Yes, I'm fine. It's nothing." She brushed off his fussing, feeling like a small, incapable child herself under all the attention.</p><p>Mulder held her cheek in his palm and dried a stray tear.</p><p>"I'll be fine," she amended.</p><p>Trusting her, he gave Scully the basket and watched as she left him, walking quickly like she was running away. Her stiff gait so un-Scully-like and alien it was a physical embodiment of her grief. Himself feeling like cement, stayed, weighed down, swamped by a tide from slowly opening floodgates. Mulder looked at the row of white whales lined up on the shelf, each flopping with individual personality in the way that stuffing could make it appear so.</p><p>"Do you think he would like it?"</p><p>The bob of strawberry blonde hair nodded out of the corner of his eye before vanishing, leaving him to navigate the labyrinth alone.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Scully was vaguely aware of what she's putting into the basket: deodorant, soap, razors, tampons– she hadn't even thought about those until she saw them. Her hand briefly hesitated over a box of condoms but she clenched it back into a fist. It would just be a reminder, an admittance, an avoidance.</p><p>At the checkout, she remained stoic and silent, resisting Mulder's touch at the small of her back. Ignoring the numbers as they flew by on the till, she handed over the money, too much to be paid in cash without raising eyebrows. If the cashier said something, she didn't notice. It wasn't until they were back on the dust-roads, alone, dressed comfortably in their new, plain clothes that Scully lowered her guard. By then, the day was long behind them, Selene cresting twilight in her silver, moon chariot. Night darkened their paths heading south, the chill creeping to tuck them in.</p><p>Curled up in the seat, Scully wrapped herself in the scratchy woolen blanket, it in no way kept the cold at bay. The white whale they had bought was tucked under her chin, squished closely to her chest as she held it tightly. She gazed out of the window, turned away from him, watching the last of the colours blur. At first, Mulder thought she was shivering from the cool air, so he rubbed her arm, but when he did so, she gasped and sniffed, retaking air like she would drown.</p><p>Mulder clenched his jaw and his fist on the steering wheel, angry with himself for not noticing sooner. They used to trek over the country all the time; long car rides filled with easy talking and comfortable quiet. Times were different, but their silence was a symptom of something more fatal. He wondered how it was so simple to forget that they had changed. He pulled to the side of the road and turned the key on the ignition.</p><p>"What... are you doing?" Scully whispered, choking on the sound of her broken voice.</p><p>He tried to reach for her hand. "Scully, please..." His plead faded into the stillness.</p><p>She remained looking out the window, focusing on the darkness. "I'm fine."</p><p>It was a knee-jerk reaction, taken from a box of samples she'd collected over the years. Scully cringed when she heard the old habit spill from her lips. It was an obvious lie– she knew it– risking exposure, especially to Mulder, who knew her so well. Feeling she had to was worse. Did she want Mulder to tell her she was wrong or was she only trying to kid herself?</p><p>She expected his words to follow swiftly, felt them on her tongue as he was going to say them. Yet they never came; his hand settled still on her elbow, the silence growing louder.</p><p>He continued to give her his undivided attention until she crumbled under the weight of his worry.</p><p>"I just..." She paused, licking her lips, trying to find the words to explain when her head was an empty void. She turned around to face him, yet she bowed her head, failing to hold his gaze. Huffing, Scully collected her feelings and imagined holding them in her chest. They trickled through the cracks in her hands, slipping as she struggled to understand them. What she had left in her palms was the guilt that tainted everything she touched. She tried again. "... Want to be happy... I'm not sure I can do that again. Not when there's so much missing."</p><p>Mulder gulped, running out of words to comfort her. I'm here, he wanted to say, <em>You have me</em>. But deep down he knew it was pointless saying it; it wasn't enough for her, even if it was for him. He couldn't deny that they were different people– very different people– despite all that they shared.</p><p>"It's going to come back for us," she stated simply and braved a glimpse at him. "We shouldn't have gone to the store. We shouldn't have stayed in the motel, Mulder."</p><p>He melted in her gaze, hating to see her burn herself in penance for all the things she couldn't control. Only that morning had he put a smile upon her face; things seeming hopeful. The way she had giggled wrapped in his arms now a distant dream.</p><p><em>You know she's right, Mulder. How do you save her now?</em> the grizzled man chuckled, but Mulder ignored the voice.</p><p>"You said it yourself, Scully, we needed those things: 'practically speaking'." He felt cruel for using her own words against her, but they were the only ones he had.</p><p>She didn't turn away like he was expecting her to. Instead, she trained her eyes on his in the darkness. It wasn't a cold, hard stare but it wasn't filled with warmth either. She reached for his hand, locking their fingers together: a last act of hope. Mulder held onto the feeling, closing his eyes to the darkness. </p><p>"Maybe I was wrong."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Home is What I'll be Dreaming of</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to my friend, Kaitlyn, who translated the Spanish in this chapter. - note some of the Spanish is purposefully grammatically incorrect but hopefully, those mistakes are the only mistakes.</p><p>Thank you to everybody who has left encouraging comments as well; it always makes my day when I see them in my inbox.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"Mom?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Dana?" </em>
</p><p>The image of opening the door to her daughter's frightened face flashed before her eyes as she put the key into the lock of Dana's apartment.</p><p>
  <em>"I'm sorry, mom, I don't have much time... but I'm leaving." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Leaving where? Dana, you're not making any sense."</em>
</p><p>Margaret Scully stepped into her daughter's world still smelling fresh like the owner had popped out to work that morning. She half expected Dana to appear around the corner at any moment.</p><p>
  <em>"I can't say. I don't even know myself. The trial– it's–"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Fox. I understand."</em>
</p><p>Running her finger along the top of a cabinet, she rubbed the particles into the pad of her digit– the dust had barely started settling on the surface. She remembered embracing her daughter, Dana clutching back like it would be the last time she would get to. Maggie liked to believe she had more faith than to believe that.</p><p>
  <em>"Mom, there's something I need you to do for me because I won't be there and I don't know if I'll be back."</em>
</p><p>She picked up the envelope on the side; held it firmly in her hands as she took a long look at the room; all the idiosyncrasies scattered about, neatly organized on bookshelves and the mantelpiece in the way that was so Dana. Sitting down on the couch, she sized up the task at hand: pack a life into boxes, for everything must go. She opened the envelope– the lease on the apartment ended next month.</p><p>She started in the bedroom, where all of Fox's possessions hadn't been unpacked yet. They were stuffed into the bottom of the closet, hidden away like bad memories. Maggie knew what it was like with her husband away at sea, not knowing when– if he'd be back. But she'd had her children, her friends, her church group, her faith. She may have felt lonely at times, but she was never alone. She knew her daughter; knew her tendency to shut people out when she needed them most; her need to prove her strength. She worried for Dana.</p><p>Pulling the first box out, she lifted the lid and looked inside. Scraps of newspaper clippings littered the bottom, disguising a picture frame and what she suspected was a case file.</p><p>"Oh, Fox," she sighed, returning the lid and his privacy. She was transported back to her own doorstep again, hugging Dana before she left. <em>"You promise me one thing: you look after him."</em></p><p>In another box were all of his university books, editions of the Lone Gunmen magazine; another family heirlooms like silverware sets, photographs, inscribed books, a velvet box, a pocket watch. Maggie sat down on her daughter's unmade bed: the only sign that Dana had left in a hurry. The pillow askew revealed a knot of cloth, the top of William's baby hat. "Oh, Dana." She whispered like when she had hugged her tighter on the doorstep. <em>"And you let him look after you."</em></p><p>Maggie shook her head. She wouldn't do it. All of their things, they were not things to be thrown out. She took the hat and carefully folded it, putting it away in a box, saving the good memories, saving all of them.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Mom?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Dana?" </em>
</p><p>Dana stood dumbfounded on her mother's step, pinching herself with excitement, relief, and nervousness. She rushed into her mother's waiting arms, finally coming home after what had been an eternity. <em>"Oh my God, mom, I've missed you so much!"</em></p><p>The thud of crashing into the embrace jolted Scully, opening her eyes to the bright Mexican sun beating down through the windscreen of the car. Gasping, she bolted upright, clutching her hands by her thighs, before she bolted out of the door. Stood in the bright sunlight, she caught and held her breath. In. Hold. Out. It wasn't the first dream like it she'd had, but she was shocked every time by how real they felt and how tangible her mother seemed. Calmer now, she looked at Mulder in the passenger seat, drifting roughly in and out of sleep. His eyes opened groggily as he slowly stirred, stretched, and groaned. He offered her a warm smile that melted some of the ache in her chest and watered a different, better kind into bloom. When he stumbled out of the car and over the dusty ground to join her, Scully turned away, looking out across the open land. He slipped his hands around her waist from behind, stooping to rest his chin upon her shoulder.</p><p>"You had a bad dream again," he mumbled into her shoulder.</p><p>Scully leaned her head defeatedly against his. She turned in his arms and buried her face into his t-shirt, breathing in his warm, sleepy scent and sighing. Rubbing her hands up and down his sides, she huffed and pushed herself from the wrap of his arms. "I thought I was home again," she said simply, looking up at him.</p><p>"Yeah, me too," he hummed. "Well, actually, we were in the office and you were throwing paperwork at me, telling me you would chew my ass before Skinner could even get to me if it wasn't done on time."</p><p>She might have chuckled but Mulder doubted that she would share her dream so freely, despite his effort to tease it out of her. He understood her need for privacy but he wished at times she would be a little less unforgiving, building her walls twice as quickly as he could chisel them away. Resolutely, he stood up straighter, holding out his hand out in invitation. She queried him with her eyebrows, so he flexed it imploringly. "Take a walk with me."</p><p>"Where?" she laughed.</p><p>"Anywhere, everywhere." He chipped away at her guard with a smile. "This fine foreign land has many fruits to offer."</p><p>"Okay–" she took his hand cautiously– "but not too far."</p><p>They ambled awhile aimlessly with no destination in mind. Taking each step at a time, it was pleasant living in the moment with no expectations. The liberation of no judgement from the open expanse drew them closer together. Between them, they spoke in silences, admiring the craggy landscape decorated with scraggy bushes. As Scully walked along, her thoughts drifted like the thin, wispy clouds on the breeze, back to her mother and the home she no longer had. She hadn't told Mulder yet, not because she couldn't bring herself to tell him, but because with all that had happened, it had slipped her mind. Everything she had now was all ahead of her and everyone to the side of her, holding her hand and swinging it gently like a pendulum. Life seemed simple when reduced to its basic measures: food, water, shelter, Mulder. She wondered how long she could live on that.</p><p>Mulder's voice broke through the cloud of her thoughts like a siren returning her to the moment. "Tell me what you're thinking."</p><p>Scully looked at him, surprised that he could see into her mind so easily.</p><p>"You may keep things closer to yourself these days, but I know your thinking face when I see it." He said it kindly but the honesty of his words punched a hole through her gut. She tried to tell him these things but she also had to figure them out for herself first. She only regretted that she'd ever hurt him in any way being caught in the brunt of her storm.</p><p>"It's been a month." The words surprised her as they tumbled out without her knowing.</p><p>He cocked his head. "What has?"</p><p>"Us..." she breathed. Scully made a point of looking him in the eye, even if it stole the breath from her lungs to see him focused on her so intensely. "... living like this."</p><p>His thumb shakily stroked the back of her hand. "You're counting?"</p><p>"I find it hard not to."</p><p>Mulder nodded.</p><p>She sighed. "I– I couldn't tell you what day it is, but I... I don't know– have the need to keep a tally; a record of some kind." It was like her body clock was scratching tally marks on the walls of her mind. Like she was a prisoner in her own skull. "I do it to keep me sane but does it make me mad?"</p><p>"Sometimes the only sane response to an insane world is insanity," he answered.</p><p>"That's not helping."</p><p>"Sorry." He paused in thought, taking a breath whilst trudging onwards. "I know what you mean... When Samantha first went missing and I was waiting for her to come through the bedroom door, I used to count the nights she didn't."</p><p>Curiosity claiming the better of her she asked, "When did you stop?"</p><p>"If I'm honest, I don't think I have. I just lost count somewhere along the way; found other days to count. Like when I was in hiding–" He took her other hand and pulled them to a stop, standing in front of her and looking into her blue eyes flickering with worry. Mulder could tell she would take what he was about to say the wrong way, so he tried to assure her with a squeeze of his hands and a loving look. "Every night I would cross off another day until I could see you and Will again... Sometimes that was the only thing that kept me going."</p><p>He felt her tense in his hands anyway, saw her eyes mist up as the walls grew thicker, yet she refused to let the tears spill. He steadied her at the shoulders, rubbing tender circles gently through the cloth of her t-shirt. Bending lower, he brushed his lips softly over hers, pulling her from the pain she harboured. Yet Scully remained frozen, unresponsive to the warm life of his lips, the hole in her gut tearing a little more. Pulling away to see her stone-faced, he whispered, "Scully, please don't do this to me. You have nothing to be sorry for."</p><p>She licked her lips and swallowed, allowing herself to sink to the bottom and the troubled waters calm over the top. Moving out of his grasp, she continued on their wander as if she could physically leave the memories behind.</p><p>Mulder's hand loosened on her shoulder, trailing down her arm as she walked away. A sharp tug drew him from the well of despair. As their hands met, she held on tightly coaxing him to follow, which he did so gratefully. She stopped them after a few paces, placing a hand upon his chest. On tiptoes, she raised herself to meet his lips, returning his kiss with mellow grace, not breaking until she had to breathe.</p><p>"Scull–" he questioned but was cut off by the press of her lips back against his, delicately answering him.</p><p>"I'm sorry," she mumbled against his mouth.</p><p>"You have nothing to be sorry for," he repeated in a whisper. His hand rested at the small of her back, guiding her as he turned back the way they had come. "Come on, let's get some breakfast."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Along the back roads of Mexico, they traveled for some time before they came across a small town. The one street through it was lined with sand-coloured buildings that glinted in the sunlight, some rising tall, others spread wide. All of them looked welcoming and homely and Scully, gazing out of her window, wondered what it would be like to live in one of them. As they drove past, she wondered about the lives of the people who did live in them. Did they argue about who took the trash out? Did the children constantly ask what was for dinner? Did they gather around a television in the evening with their families? It was a life that for the longest time she had dreamed of and at one point had mourned the loss of. Now, she was indifferent to the idea of getting out of the car, hardened by years of abnormalcy, or so she told herself. Home was just a dream; the car was all she had for a life. Yet still a small part of her dared to dream; dared to envy the people in this town of their families and their homely comforts. And at the same time, she feared that normalcy wouldn't be enough for her.</p><p>Mulder pulled up outside a storefront, eyeing the swathes of people moving in every direction. Despite its size, the town was full of bustling people going about their daily lives.</p><p>"How good's your Spanish, Scully?"</p><p>She gave him a withering look. "You know I took German in college."</p><p>"Mhmm, and I did French in high school. Where's Monica when you need her?"</p><p>Scully followed his line of gaze to the crowds of people. "Mulder, I don't think we should go in together."</p><p>"What?" He whipped his head around to look at her. "Scully, we're fine. Nobody knows us out here."</p><p>"I still think we'd be better off if only one of us went in."</p><p>"But what if one of us needs help?" he questioned quietly, scared by her sudden urge to be alone.</p><p>"I'm sure I'll be fine," she smiled, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Anyway, you need to drive the getaway car."</p><p>Scully left him in the car to his own thoughts spiraling with concern.</p><p>It was eerily quiet inside the store. The jingle of the bell above the door and the radio playing quietly in the background only heightened the silence within. Scully perused the shelves, picking up odd pieces like cereal bars, bottles of water, and a packet of sunflower seeds. By the counter, there was a rack of postcards, mostly just pictures of the map of Mexico or the flag with writing she didn't understand. She picked one up and thought of her mother who had no idea where she was or how she was. It would be too complicated to send without revealing their location, she knew that, but maybe when she got home she could give it to her mother like documentation of where they had been.</p><p>Scully had always wondered what it would be like to go traveling– her father's worldly trips had partly inspired her and she had been raised with what he called the Scully Adventurer's Spirit. Charlie had started his world trip in Mexico, although his journey had been an entirely legal affair. He hadn't crossed into new territory miles away from border control. Scully turned the postcard over in her hands, reminding herself how far from home she was. Yet strangest of all, she didn't feel like she was.</p><p>"Do I know you?"</p><p>The voice made Scully jump and instinctively she held the postcard behind her back.</p><p>"I'm sorry?" she asked, trying to keep her tone as calm as possible whilst blood pulsed in her ears.</p><p>A man, who looked to be in his late forties, had appeared behind the counter with his brow furrowed in concentration and his sight set on her. He rubbed his chin contemplatively. "I know you. You are American, no?"</p><p>Scully stuttered, unsure of how to answer. "No, I– I don't–"</p><p>"Yes!" he interrupted her. His smile grew with his enthusiasm, unnerving Scully more by the second. "I see you before somewhere, on the television perhaps?"</p><p>"I'm sorry, I have to go."</p><p>Scully left some money on the counter and swiftly weaved back through the aisles. At a brief glance, she plucked a random box of hair dye from a shelf, self-conscious of her entire appearance. If she had to, she would scrub down her skin until she looked like someone else, but first, she had to get out.</p><p>The man behind the counter clicked his fingers in recognition. «¡Ah! ¡Cops! ¡Y el hombre lobo con el FBI!» he laughed and shook his head.</p><p>Mulder saw Scully burst out of the shop, arms laden with groceries and an expression he couldn't fathom. She crumpled into the passenger seat, quickly stuffing the things into the footwell. "You'd be no good in a robbery," she quipped.</p><p>"Scully, what's wrong?" he immediately asked.</p><p>She gave him her usual answer, passing him a cereal bar and his seeds. "I'm fine. Let's just get out of here."</p><p>Mulder took the food and started the engine, driving away despite the uncomfortable feeling that told him she was hiding something. He didn't want to press her further though, so he bit his tongue and focused on the road.</p><p>After a couple of minutes, Scully turned to him, worrying her lip between her teeth. She relented, speaking softly. "There was someone in there, Mulder, he recognised me."</p><p>Mulder let go of a breath that he didn't know he was holding, relieved that she had finally said something. "Are you sure? I mean they couldn't have been mistaking you for someone else?" </p><p>She shook her head, doubting herself already. "I don't know, he said he'd seen me on TV. Mulder, what if they have our pictures out on the news?"</p><p>"I don't think they'd do that. They don't want to draw unnecessary attention to themselves," he reasoned.</p><p>"But they could dress it up as something else. Get the unsuspecting populous to do their dirty work without telling them who or why. Mulder, seriously, how haven't we been caught yet?"</p><p>"Don't know, but I'm not going to question it either."</p><p>"But don't you think it's strange that if they really wanted to find us they could have easily done so already?" She looked at his profile, judging the minute movements of his jaw muscles, saw them flex unconsciously as they did whenever he was forced to admit a hard truth.</p><p>"Perhaps we're not as important as they would have us believe," he tried, glancing at her for reassurance. "Maybe they're busy developing a vaccine or ordering their super soldiers into neat, indestructible lines. Everyone's got bigger aliens to fry." He chuckled perfunctorily.</p><p>"Mulder, they were determined enough to kill you that they rigged your trial," Scully turned to gaze at the roadside zipping past and said quieter, "I think there's something bigger at play here."</p><p>Mulder properly laughed and she stared at him with a frown stitched upon her brow.</p><p>"You're doing a very good impression of me, Scully," he chortled.</p><p>She smiled despite herself, trying to hide it in a dip of her head. She hummed, having to agree. Maybe she was being paranoid, maybe she should be. The little Mulder voice played in her head,<em> It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you. </em>Shifting in her seat, Scully scuffed her feet on the box of hair dye in the footwell. She was reminded of the haunting feeling of being reeled into the snare, the need to change shape and escape.<em> I see you before on the television.</em></p><p>"Could we find a motel tonight?" she asked warily, cognizant of the contradiction to her previous argument.</p><p>"Yeah, sure." He reached out for her hand, lacing her fingers with his.  "You sure you're okay?"</p><p>"Yes," she smiled. "I'm fine."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Scully stood behind Mulder at the front desk, listening vaguely to him trying to communicate to the owner of the motel. She stared out of the window at the fading light, smiling as she clutched their only bag of belongings. Resting her cheek to Mulder's shoulder, she heard the muffled sound of his broken Spanish.</p><p>«Uno habitación. Uno err noche,» he stuttered ernestly.</p><p>She chuckled, remembering of all the times they had booked two rooms just to keep up appearances and Human Resources of their backs. It wasn't that both rooms never got used, more the connecting door left open was an invitation too tempting to resist taking. Mostly, she relished the frequent nights he had slipped into her bed under the cover of darkness and fallen asleep curled around her.</p><p>«¿Te gustaría una o dos camas?» The man nodded towards Scully and she smiled politely.</p><p>«¿Excusa?»</p><p>«¿Una cama o dos?» the man repeated.</p><p>«Una cama por favor, señor,» Scully answered.</p><p>Mulder muttered, "Feel free to save me from looking like an ass any time."</p><p>"I was enjoying listening to you butcher a beautiful language," she teased.</p><p>As soon as Mulder was through the door, he flopped onto the bed and sighed contentedly. "One day, Scully, we'll have a place of our own and I will never sleep on a couch again."</p><p>She eyed him suspiciously as she rummaged through their bag. Was this where he thought this was going? The end goal a house out in the country with a little wooden porch and surrounded by fields to play baseball in? She tried to imagine it, sitting on the porch, drinking ice tea on a sunny day, a good book and Mulder for company. A cozy log fire crackling in the stone fireplace on long winter evenings. She sometimes thought about the fairytale ending but she couldn't imagine herself in that story. Somehow, Scully was always on the outside looking in.</p><p>Clutching the box of hair dye behind her back, she stood purposefully. "I'm going to use the bathroom."</p><p>Mulder followed her with his head until the door clicked shut behind her. Hearing the water run in the ensuite, he turned over on his side. The creaking of the pipes was oddly comforting and he closed his eyes to it. The mechanical lullaby was, however, annoying enough to keep him from drifting off even though it was the first time he'd laid his head down on a pillow in a month.</p><p>A month– Scully was counting. Every day he had woken up next to her and gazed into her clear, blue eyes, she had been counting. He now understood half of what had been wearing her thin, forcing her to guard herself as he'd forged ahead to try and break through. Maybe now was not the best time to pick at her walls. Instead, he promised to find a small window and let in some light. He lay flat on his back, exhausted, and rubbed his hands down his face. Maybe he shouldn't find a window. What if he did find one and somehow manage to block the light out against his own intentions? Perhaps all she needed was space and time to heal. Time away from him and pain he brought with his existence. It was so hard to know what to do when she didn't speak to him. Not about the important things; the things that truly mattered. Not that either of them had been very good at it in the past. It had only ever been drips of conversation at a time, providing a Petri dish for overthinking and false assumptions and doubt. Things that built up like a damn over time until the structure burst and it all came flooding out at once. He didn't want to lose Scully and he didn't want her to get lost.</p><p>Restless, he turned onto his other side.</p><p>Emily's little face peered up at him from over the side of the bed.</p><p>"Geez, Em," Mulder laughed nervously. "You scared me."</p><p>Her young face, too innocent still to be morose, hung dejectedly before him. Her eyes were wide, almost tearful, trying to tell him something he wished he could understand.</p><p>"Emily, what is it?"</p><p>She simply padded over to the bathroom door and pointed.</p><p>"Dana," he breathed, rushing onto his feet and knocking on the door. "Scully? You okay in there?" he called urgently.</p><p>"It's open," she replied and he noticed how she avoided his question. Turning the handily delicately, as if he was intruding, Mulder opened the door ajar and peered inside.</p><p>"Scully?"</p><p>Her t-shirt was crumpled on the floor with a towel next to the bathtub. She had her head hung over the ledge, damp tresses of hair dangling before her face. Various bottles from a box were scattered around in an unorganised mess that was so unlike her.</p><p>"If you need to use the toilet, just be quick," she said.</p><p>He cleared a path and kneeled down beside her. "Scully, what are you doing?"</p><p>Scully turned her head to look at him, dragging her tongue across her top lip in a condescending manner. "Mulder, what does it look like I'm doing?"</p><p>"Is this why you wanted to stay in a motel tonight?"</p><p>"Does it matter?"</p><p>He carefully reached for her hands, untangling them from the ribbons of her once red hair. "Of course it matters. Why didn't you tell me?"</p><p>She looked down at their hands. "Am I obligated to tell you everything, Mulder?" she quizzed, returning her gaze to him as she uttered his name.</p><p>"No," he searched her eyes for some meaning, but it was hidden away in some depth he couldn't swim to. "But you hardly tell me anything anymore. I think I see a glimmer of what you keep locked away in your heart, but I don't know if it's just a smokescreen, Scully, I can't tell."</p><p>She pulled her hands away, combing her fingers through her hair again. "I would never lie to you, Mulder," she said candidly.</p><p>"That's not what I said."</p><p>Huffing, she stopped, resting her arms over the rim of the bath and giving him her full attention. "Then what are you saying?"</p><p>He didn't know. He'd lost sight of his thoughts when he'd seen her troubled; only ever her in mind. He paused, taking a breath. "Why do you need to change yourself?" he uttered softly.</p><p>"I'm not changing myself, I'm just dying my hair. It's nothing new or special."</p><p>"Why now? Why so suddenly?"</p><p>She stared at him in disbelief. "I told you: someone recognised me. I can't just shrug that off like it didn't happen because it did. This is our reality, Mulder, we can't wander through it blindly an– and just hope we'll make it out alive!"</p><p>She caught her breath, taken off guard by her own sudden outburst. Licking her lip, she composed herself, affecting an even tone. "I'm not shutting you out, Mulder, if you'd just listen..."</p><p>He watched her silently, absorbing her words. Eventually, he nodded timidly. "Let me help then," he whispered.</p><p>"No, I'm fine," she brushed him off.</p><p>But he refused to lose her. "Scully, let me help."</p><p>She sighed, giving in. Snapping of the rubber gloves, she handed him the pair: they had been too large for her hands anyway. "I've died my hair before, but this is bleach, and all the instructions are in Spanish," she admitted.</p><p>"I think you're doing fine, Scully," he smiled, rubbing the mixture from the tips all the way to the roots of her hair. Once he'd checked everywhere was covered, he sat with her, waiting patiently by her side until it needed to be washed out. Grabbing the showerhead, he made sure that the water temperature wasn't too hot and massaged her scalp. Scully hummed in appreciation as the warm water cascaded over her head and his fingers worked their magic.</p><p>"Do you think I should bleach my hair too?" he asked, partly to make her laugh and partly because he knew that she was right: this was their reality. And she did laugh: the shaking of her shoulders accompanied by a small chuckle made him sigh in relief.</p><p>"What's so funny?" he teased. "Would I not look cool with bleach blond hair? I could take up surfing."</p><p>Laughing again, Scully elbowed him playfully, making the shower spray everywhere. Her giggle was a welcome sound for sore ears, breathing life back into the empty silence that had followed the burst of the damn.</p><p>He turned off the water and handed her the towel. She sat on the ledge of the tub, patting carefully at her now blonde hair, eyeing the alien colour curiously. Mulder grabbed another towel and started on her other side, drying her hair with just as much care. He seriously thought about how he should change his appearance, although he didn't want to. He didn't want to look in the mirror and see someone else's reflection staring back, his own image lost and forgotten. Seeing Scully now, she didn't look like the same person he had known for nine years. The blonde brought out the ice in her blue eyes; her stares once hot like fire now cold and hard. He knew it was just a costume to wear; an act to play, but he feared it becoming a warped version of reality. He should find his own costume to don too; if not becoming the obnoxious surfer-dude type, then what other outfit should he assume? Mulder doubted novelty glasses with the big nose and moustache would cut it, not least because he already wore reading glasses and his nose– well...</p><p>Absentmindedly, he asked, "What if I grow a beard?"</p><p>Scully turned suddenly serious. Her icy, blue eyes, still fiery, melted his heart.</p><p>"Don't," she said definitively and pulled him into a searing kiss. Her fingers curled through the hair at the nape of his neck, dropping the towel and bringing him closer. She felt a well of hunger for him build in her like she'd been starved of his touch.</p><p>His hands traveled from her sides, down around the shape of her thighs, lifting her from her perch on the bathtub. He pulled her body into his, pressing them together, all the while she stole his lips with fever. With his hands under her ass and her legs wrapped around his waist, Mulder maneuvered them towards the bedroom.</p><p>"No. Here," she breathed.</p><p>"Dana–"</p><p>She rested her forehead again at his. "Please."</p><p>Mulder turned around and placed Scully on the corner of the sink unit. Grinding softly into her, he traced a hand up to cup her jaw, locking lips reverently. She tightened her grip, pulling him closer at the hips and binding her ankles behind his legs. She sucked his full bottom lip, ripe and refreshing like a plump summer fruit, biting it and soothing it with a swipe of her tongue. He hissed when she continued down his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses and lovebites until she reached the neckline of his t-shirt. Impatiently, she tugged at it and set him free, dropping it by his feet.</p><p>Her hands wandered his torso. It was softer than before, leaner and less muscular. There was still tension in his muscles, a defined shape to them, but she could feel the difference. She reached the waist of his jeans, slipping her hands down further, but Mulder grabbed her wrists, making her look up at him. When Scully saw into his eyes, she understood that he wanted to slow down, but there was a fire unfurling through her, setting her body alight and cultivating an insatiable thirst. The last time they had taken things slow, she'd had too much time to think, and she didn't want to think: just feel.</p><p>The moment passed between them, eyes locked onto one another, their telepathy flying with the sparks.</p><p>Mulder tenderly let go of her wrists and cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb across the rose flush that tinted it. Scully sighed, leaning into his hand and placing her own on top. He bent down to capture a kiss, his lips soft yet firm with resolution. She responded in kind, opening up to the taste of his tongue, of desperation, of hope, of the sunflower seeds he cracked between his teeth all day. Her fingers wound around his hand, bringing it from her cheek to her hip. She slipped down off the cabinet and he unbuttoned her pants. They fell to the floor with a rumpling sound that seemed to echo off of the tiled walls. She stepped out of them, climbing on top of the unit, tugging him between her legs. A second rumpling of jeans and he was buried inside of her, clutching her closely.</p><p>He began to move leisurely, kissing her with indulgence. But his body was strung like an archer's bow, taut with resistance, holding something back. Scully moved against him insistently, one hand scratching at his shoulder, the other twined through his hair. She kissed him like a diver plunging into deep waters; the taste of exploration too sweet not to bite.</p><p>"Faster," she pleaded in his ear.</p><p>Mulder complied, giving in, releasing built-up tension with the snap of his hips forward. In quick and jarring thrusts he drove into her until it was too much and she came with a gasp, collapsing into his chest. Time seemed to slow. The pulsation of where they were joined throbbed up through him to his ears and pounded through his chest. He heard every lungful of air he took; every small, panting breath Scully puffed. Every plunge pushed him further until he too, gasping for air, broke the surface, floating euphorically on the waves of the ocean.</p><p>An indeterminate amount of time later, when it was moving at roughly the normal speed again, Mulder lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling with his arm outstretched and Scully's head resting on it. She was drawing aimless patterns around the scar tissue of where she had shot him. Moby had been rescued from their bag of belongings and the white whale was snuggled in the space between them. Everything should have felt easy.</p><p>"Scully..."</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>"I– I..." He thought of Emily's face staring up at him. He wanted– needed to tell her about the hallucinations that haunted him but he didn't know if he could place that kind of burden on her. He shuffled onto his side and watched her watch him back. He was about to open his mouth when he saw Emily sat on the bed behind Scully, frantically shaking her head. He itched to make Scully turn over and see for herself the impossible. But there was something in that little girl's eyes, so like her mother's, that made him think of Scully first: how angry she would be if he said he could see her; how broken she would be if she saw her for herself.</p><p>"Why did you get those sunflower seeds?" he eventually fabricated to fill the silence, bottling his ghosts up and burying them for another time.</p><p>"What?" she asked, understandably bewildered.</p><p>Ignoring the nagging feeling that he was walking down the wrong path, aware it was still early enough to go back, Mulder sighed and continued, "You didn't have to get them, so I just wondered why you did."</p><p>"Because you like them and I saw them." She leaned away from him, questioning him and trying to gauge what was running through his mind. "Did you not want them?"</p><p>"No, it's not that. I wasn't expecting it– I didn't ask you to get them..." he continued to ramble.</p><p>She silenced him with a kiss, smiling. "You didn't have to."</p><p>When Scully pulled away from him, Emily had disappeared and he wondered why at all he was taking advice from his own deluded mind. Mulder looked up at the ceiling again. There were things he needed to get off of his chest, but Emily was right, even if she was only an apparition or a figment: he couldn't tell Scully, not at the moment. Maybe sometime in the future when the moment was right. Yet the longer he left it, the harder it would be to explain what was happening– to explain why it had taken so long to confide in her. The longer he left it, the harder it pressed against his chest; another weight to carry around. The harder it pressed, the more it weighed on his mind; another thought to worry about. The more he thought about it, the harder it pressed against his chest. It was like something inside him wanted to scream when he reflected upon it. So, he didn't. Instead, he pulled Scully closer and lost himself curled around her. Her warm skin against his own grounded him; her scent wrapped itself around him and tied him down. He focused on her breathing, matching his own to the same pattern until he was made up of a tiny piece of Scully that kept him sane and whole.</p><p>"Mulder," she mumbled. "Are you okay?"</p><p>"Shh, it's nothing," he whispered. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. "Try and get some sleep."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Under the Midnight Moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The night was mild but the coastal breeze had its biting edge. Nipping at Mulder's toes, it reminded him that he really was in Mazatlán, Mexico, and the beauty of the sky and the sea softly roaring wasn't just a lyrical dream. The music from the clubs on the promenade pulsed through the air; a low hum by the time it reached the beach. He sat on one of the blankets from the car laid out over the soft dips and mounds of the sand, guarding Scully's socks and shoes and Moby as he watched her. Scully, ever his lyrical dream, paddled at the shore, not caring for the power of the elements, but liberated by the tug of the tide. In the candescence of the moon, her blonde hair was illuminated an ethereal silver like a halo, gently billowing in the breeze. Her pants were turned up, the waves cresting and crashing at her feet, the sand no doubt sifting through her bare toes as whisps of seaweed floated at her ankles. There was a lightness to her step that made everyone she took look like a dance of her spirit. Beside her, Emily was jumping over the waves as they rolled in. Her little feet made no splashes in the water but she was giggling and skipping all the same. His heart ached with contentment to see them both enjoy a moment of happiness. Gazing up at the black night sky littered with the warmth of orange light pollution, he thanked the far-off, scattered stars, knowing whoever was up there had smiled on him with mercy.</p><p>
  <em>Man, you're properly screwed.</em>
</p><p>The three musketeers appeared behind him with the dulcet tones of Frohike carrying on the wind.</p><p><em>Yeah, dude, you can't keep living like this,</em> Langley added.</p><p>"Like what?" Mulder asked defensively.</p><p>Byers sat down in front of Mulder and clasped his hands. <em>What the others were trying so eloquently say is that you need to tell her about us.</em></p><p>Mulder rubbed his face in his hands. With his sight darkened, he couldn't tell that the trio was there like they had simply blinked out of existence– no presence, no warmth, no sound of breath greeted him. He was chasing visions in his own head again. He took a deep breath. "I don't know if I can do that to her."</p><p>Frohike sympathetically tried to pat his shoulder. <em>Mulder, we had a deal: if you don't treat the lady right, I get to make a pass.</em></p><p>Mulder scrunched his nose. "I don't ever remember making that deal."</p><p>
  <em>He's right, Frohike, that never happened.</em>
</p><p><em>Shut up, Langley</em>, he warned. <em>I might be dead, but I'm no less of a catch.</em></p><p><em>Because you looked like a wet fish while you were still alive,</em> Langley jibed.</p><p>Mulder chuckled, "I didn't even have to say it."</p><p>He looked up to see Scully walking back up the beach towards him, a peaceful smile playing on her lips. The reflection of the ocean still twinkled beyond the infinite blue of her eyes. He felt as though he had taken a lungful of seawater, something like an intoxicating potion swirling around his insides, polishing unbridled emotion.</p><p>"Talking to yourself again?" she asked cheerfully, pulling a stray strand of hair from her curling lips, blissfully unaware of the company he held.</p><p>Beaming up at her, he joked, "One day, they'll lock me up for it."</p><p><em>Come on, man!</em> Frohike exclaimed accompanied by a reprimanding, <em>Mulder...</em> from Byers.</p><p>Scully's face fell, a flash of pain darting behind those endless oceans, suddenly turning the air sombre. All at once, the imaginary taste of salt on his tongue spoilt and dried his mouth.</p><p>"Please don't say that," she said calmly, her voice a mask free of malice or vulnerability.</p><p>"Sorry, I forget," he muttered.</p><p>The trio moved out the way as Scully unknowingly walked between them and sat beside Mulder. "It's okay," she murmured, eyes drawn to the water.</p><p>Frohike, Byers, and Langley all looked at him expectantly. He ignored them indignantly and laid down with his head in Scully's lap, shuffling on the scratchy blanket to get comfortable. She idly stroked her fingers through his hair, fingertips cool against his side-burns. He shivered from the chill of her touch, but leaned into her affection, letting the tingles shoot down his spine.</p><p>Frohike groaned exasperatedly. <em>L</em><em>et's leave the two lovebirds to it</em><em>,</em> he said, frowning at Mulder and gesturing for the others to follow. <em>I'm sure he'll tell her eventually</em>.</p><p>Mulder chuckled at him and the disgruntled expression on his face as he walked out of sight.</p><p>"Are you okay?" Scully asked, a purring lilt to her voice.</p><p>"Yeah," he sighed, then nestled further into the cradle of her lap.</p><p>She hummed contentedly, continuing to draw waves through his hair. Her stare was fixed not on him, but following the line of the horizon where cargo ships were dotted like tiny toys. She was more peaceful, her spirit soothed for a few hours by the lullaby of the waves. Yet she still kept that part of her private. Her silhouette was stoic, not letting on what undercurrents pained her. He just felt like a sponge, absorbing all her hardship and mirroring it back to her. Her pain was his hurt; her wounds why he wept.</p><p>Mulder placed his hand on top of hers by his head, nuzzling his cheek warmly into her palm. "I like it when you're like this," he mused.</p><p>She cocked her head with curiosity. "Like what?"</p><p>"Carefree," he said simply.</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"I can feel you and you're the most relaxed I've ever seen you these last couple of months–" Turning, he sat up and cupped her cheek, holding her as if she were a delicate and intricate work of art, constantly shifting and changing, swirling and charming him with her mystery. He watched the puzzle pieces in her eyes and her jaw shift and tighten. He smoothed her porcelain skin over with his thumb, her cheeks rosy from the chill, no longer thawed by her constant smile. "–But you're still putting on a strong face."</p><p>"What do you mean?" she asked again below her breath.</p><p>He brought their foreheads together, noses kissing like Eskimos', daring to say what had been on his mind since they had first driven out of New Mexico. "I know you're coping, but it's killing me watching you close off from the world. I don't know how long I can wait for you while I'm in the dark, not knowing what monsters you're fighting. Seeing you then, it was like I got the old, happy Scully back for a moment."</p><p>Carefully, she spoke, "It's never been my intention to hurt you. I'm sorry if I've made you feel that way. I, uh, don't think I need to tell you how hard I have found this."</p><p>"I know, I'm sorry." Sorry for everything. Sorry that she needed to put up her ten-foot fences. He realised that it was his fault. "I'm selfish for wanting more from you," he mumbled and clenched his eyes closed, willing away the hot sting that tormented him. The air shifted around him: the compress to his forehead vanished, the warmth of a small hand appeared against his other cheek, tending to a tear with a delicate swipe.</p><p>"I haven't been entirely honest with you either..." he whispered and waited. Waited for her exclamation of anger; her disappointment; her harsh words telling him that they were nothing if they couldn't trust each other. Yet none of it came. He stumbled over how to order his thoughts. "There are so many things in my head, Scully..."</p><p>He slowly opened his eyes to see her piercing ones mere inches from his face. The faint creases that defined them, like fine brushstrokes on the pale canvas of her skin, suddenly became crisp with clarity. Behind her, the rest of the world remained a dark blur, obscured and fading into oblivion. It looked a lot like the inside of his mind: a dark swimming void that only focused to a sharp point when he could see his touchstone.</p><p>"I can see people I shouldn't..." he started, his voice strangely calm and docile. Finally saying the words, he felt the ache in his chest alleviate. Keeping her face in focus, he grounded himself in the detail of her laugh lines, having watched them grow deeper over the years. He recalled a time not too long ago when the sole reason he had been placed on this planet seemed to be to make them appear. But that was before he had been abducted; before he'd died; before he'd brought back souls with him from the other side.</p><p>"They come to me, talk to me, and I can't tell if it's real or a sick and twisted projection of my subconscious. The Smoking Man, Langley, Frohike, Byers... Emily... I want to believe they are real... but I– I–" he shook his head desperately– "I don't know what to believe."</p><p>Scully nodded, unsurprised that the trauma he had seen had manifested into monsters of his own, yet she was surprised that she hadn't thought of the possibility. In the last couple of months, it had been him catching her when she fell, him holding her together when she broke apart. He had been her silent buttress supporting her, for which she was eternally grateful. She knew he suffered too, but he had taken their whole situation in his stride. Yet she had been stupid to think that he was doing okay. In her own world of survival, she had been so disconnected from reality, so ignorant. She should have picked up on the signs: the far off look he'd get like he was watching something else; mumbling to himself like he was with somebody else. Tiny, minuscule things, that she had shrugged off one at a time, all came tumbling together like a tonne of bricks. She bit her lip but she wanted to kick herself.</p><p>Brushing back Mulder's shaggy fringe out of his grey-hazel eyes, she glimpsed his soul beneath, entirely trusting, entirely innocent. A pang of guilt hit her deep down that she could have possibly failed him. She sat up, her hands falling into her lap, and sighed.</p><p>"I could tell you that stimulating different areas of the brain can provoke auditory and visual hallucinations, that extreme conditions have been known to create the sensation of a 'third person'. But I think the answer is a lot simpler than that: I think it's stress." She gaged his reaction, knowing it was probably not what he wanted to hear, but he continued to listen intently, head softly bobbing with everything she said. She took a deep breath. "The last few years have been hard– to put it lightly. There were days where I couldn't stop wondering what I was going to do without you–"</p><p>He smiled at that and she felt a similar one quietly creep into the corners of her mouth, mirroring him.</p><p>"–You know, when you weren't there, I used to pretend you were and talk to you as if you were in the room with me. Maybe the ghosts you see are just a comfort and a way to rationalise things."</p><p>"Is that your diagnosis, Doc?" he smirked. "Stress?"</p><p>Scully could see he was trying to laugh it off and she wished the answer was that simple, but stress didn't cause as sophisticated hallucinations as he was describing– exacerbate the symptoms maybe, but not cause. But she couldn't tell him that and cause undue worry without any chance of finding a real answer. She couldn't put him in more pain. It was better that she alone worried for him rather than them both be uselessly anxious.</p><p>"Have you been sleeping properly?" She lifted his fringe back again, checking for signs of tiredness in his eyes. There were dark circles under them, but no more so than usual and they weren't bloodshot.</p><p>"Do I ever?" he said as light-heartedly as possible.</p><p>She couldn't help but smile a little, letting his hair flop back into place once satisfied. Sighing, she asked more quietly, "You've seen Emily?"</p><p>She was aware that she was indulging in a foolish fantasy, but the possibility made her heart race. Rationally, the hallucinations Mulder had would be meaningless. Perhaps it was only curiosity driving her, but the clenching in her chest told her it was more than that. It had been so long since she'd seen Emily's sweet smiling face, that she needed to know, and more than a small part of her wanted to believe.</p><p>"Yeah..." Wanting to give Scully some sort of meaning, he added, "She's always looking out for you."</p><p>"I miss them both," she whispered.</p><p>"Yeah, me too."</p><p>The silence between them was filled with the chorus of waves crashing. Like their unspoken words, they tumbled with taut energy until they finally broke on the sand. Mulder wrapped his arms around her and brought them both gently down to lay on the blanket. He could see her mother's guilt plain as day and wished he could wash those fears away for her as effortlessly as she could put his mind at ease. Just looking at her, his troubles seemed to dissipate. Everything else could blur at the seams, fray and untangle, darken into that oblivion, and it would all be okay because Scully would be there.</p><p>"I don't know if I've ever told you this, Scully, but I always sleep better when you're near me."</p><p>"No, you haven't." She pursed her lips simperingly... "But I know."</p><p>He traced his thumb along the blush of her cheek and followed the line of her jaw like brushstrokes on a canvas. He soothed her worry with the repeated motion, watching the wrinkles of her forehead soften. He followed the ups and downs of her nose and cheekbones sculpted from the finest clay. He fell into the endless oceans in the depths of her eyes. She was like a journey in which he always got lost. An epic he would never tire of exploring. Like the old days back on the Vineyard, climbing and cycling and adventuring until the sun kissed the horizon and he was late home for dinner.</p><p>He chuckled: he was gazing again.</p><p>"Do you remember the last time we were by the sea?" he asked abruptly, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Because I do-- fondly."</p><p>Scully hummed, rolling onto her back to look up at the heavens. "The City of Angels. I seem to remember something about strawberries, champagne, and phone calls from bubble baths."</p><p>"I seem to remember a bit more than that..."</p><p>"There was also the minibar we raided," she offered with a quirk of her eyebrow.</p><p>"Before that, do you remember we took our shoes off and walked along the beach?" He sat up on one elbow, facing her. "The stars were out that night like tonight, and I remember thinking, loving you was the best thing I ever decided upon."</p><p>Scully turned to meet his gaze with a soft smile of wonderment.</p><p>"There was something I regret not doing last time and I want to make it right," he said and stood up, dusting himself off. He held out his hand for her, and she sat up, tilting her head, bemused.</p><p>He took a deep breath. "Would you do the honour of letting me have this dance?"</p><p>"Always," she smiled, stretching up to grasp his fingers just out of reach. He grabbed her hands and hoisted her up. Wrapping one arm around her waist, Mulder smiled as his hand found that familiar place to rest. Gently entwining his other hand with hers, he pulled her flush against his chest, the heat of her body a comforting blanket against the chill of the night.</p><p>Scully winced, hissing through clenched teeth at the press upon her own chest. He immediately relaxed his hold, sensing something was wrong.</p><p>"Sorry, my breasts have been a bit tender lately," she explained.</p><p>He nodded, allowing a gap between them. "Okay, stand on my feet," he instructed.</p><p>She gave him a questioning look.</p><p>"Trust me," he chuckled, and she stepped tentatively on top of his own bare feet. "Okay?"</p><p>"Yeah, I got it," she laughed, wobbling slightly to keep her balance. Mulder started stepping to an imaginary 3|4 beat, wiggling his toes as their dance took them across the sand. Scully hung closer to him as they waltzed, despite the ache, resting her ear to the soothing metronome of his heart beneath his chest. The da-dum that conducted them pulsed with a vibrancy of life that she had forgotten was possible. For the first time in a long time, Scully felt alive and truly living. She took in a deep breath of seaside air, tasting the tang of salt in the back of her throat. Burying her nose to where his sternum lay clothed beneath his t-shirt, she inhaled again, a deep breath in exchange for a giggle that slipped past her lips. Everything felt surreal and very real all at once.</p><p>"Forward, side, close. Back, side, close," he muttered under his breath repeatedly. It wasn't as graceful as he had envisioned it all those years ago, the weight Scully on his feet rendering it more of a charming clomp than the moonlit gentle sway he had hoped.</p><p>Her nose peaked upward followed by two bright eyes that held him in regard. "When did you learn to dance?" she asked.</p><p>"My mother used to bring us along to her ballroom classes. It wasn't the same as baseball, the thrill of standing in the batter's box, waiting to strike the ball. But I liked it."</p><p>His eyes shone with the far-off light of that precious time Before. Memories of walking down to the local village hall with his mother when he was younger danced with nostalgia like the flickering of a film reel in his mind's eye. He fondly remembered having to drag Samantha along, who'd rather stay at home and play Stratego; except their father was always away on business so they had to go.</p><p>Scully smiled up at him. "Do all your teaching stunts involve being pressed so close together?"</p><p>He gave an honest laugh. "Only when I'm teaching you. You think you got this now?"</p><p>"Back, side, close. Forward, side, close," she narrated, and he stopped to let her get off his feet.</p><p>"Now put your feet between mine, with one foot on the outside... No, the other one." A little grin worked its way into the corner of his mouth and he asked, "Ready?"</p><p>She nodded, following his lead as he slowly started to dance again. He took his time gently easing her into the lilting rhythm, allowing her to catch up with him and bracing her when she stumbled. Despite herself, Scully let out another light laugh, flowing with a newfound grace in his arms. Sighing, aware of herself, Scully laid her head against his chest again. "I bet all the girls must have loved you at Oxford."</p><p>She felt a low chuckle rumble through him.</p><p>"No?" She looked up in surprise.</p><p>"Not once they got to know me," he answered with an innocent shrug. "I was good at scaring them away... One way or another."</p><p>"I'm sure that isn't true. And anyway, wasn't Phoebe Green your girlfriend?"</p><p>He shook his head: of course she would remember. "Were you seriously jealous of her?"</p><p>She sucked in a telling breath. "No... I just didn't like how she sauntered in thinking she could use you," she said honestly, but in hindsight, it would be futile to refuse that seeing them dance more intimately yet than their waltz made her gut clench for other reasons.</p><p>Mulder squeezed her hand. "Scully, she couldn't even lift a finger to hold a candle to you."</p><p>"I didn't like seeing you hurt."</p><p>"Hey, it doesn't matter now. I'm here. You're here. I'm dancing with my beautiful wife," he smirked.</p><p>"You wish," she quipped with mirth, but the idea was a thrilling impossibility that made butterflies out of her belly.</p><p>"She is beautiful," he insisted and spun her out of hold.</p><p>"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."</p><p>She folded back into his arms.</p><p>"I'm a lucky man to be gifted with such a sight."</p><p>She gazed upwards.</p><p>"Love is blind."</p><p>"The heart knows best," he whispered, leaning down, a hair's breadth from her face, hesitant and seeking permission.</p><p>Scully wasn't sure when they had stopped but she was aware that her toes were curling through the sand, grounding her whilst Mulder's lips beckoned her to fly. He was gentle, but with them, he persuaded her to dive a little deeper, fall a little harder, fly a little higher. When met with his pleading tongue, she took a leap of indulgence until the will for oxygen became too strong. Breaking from the kiss and her consuming haze, she smiled shyly. "Mulder... If you kiss me like that..."</p><p>"What?" he husked, forehead resting against hers.</p><p>"We'll have sand in places we don't particularly want."</p><p>"We have a blanket," he helpfully reminded her.</p><p>"Mulder!" she giggled.</p><p>He shook his head, rubbing his forehead against hers as he thought. Suddenly, he straightened with an idea; a mischievous grin taking over his countenance. "I want to get strawberries first."</p><p>A look of surprise lit her features. "Really?"</p><p>"Yeah, we can afford to splurge a little for strawberries."</p><p>Scully hummed in agreement; the thought of big, red, fresh, juicy strawberries whetting her appetite. She was suddenly met with the craving for cream as well and licked her lips. "I always knew you'd get me into trouble, Agent Mulder."</p><p>"As if you weren't capable of that yourself, Doctor Scully," he teased, and she rolled her eyes in good humour.</p><p>"I love you," she whispered for only him to hear, the weight of the words hanging in her voice. The ears of the sea and the stars were not privy to her words, not even God; they were the only two in their own world. Slowly, they swayed together in an embrace that was everything; warming each other from the darkness of the night; shielding each other from the darkness that followed them. Yet Scully allowed herself to worry about Mulder and, for the countless time that night, held him just a little closer.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Hold my Hand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hastily, they had bought a punnet of strawberries and booked into the nearest motel– each while trying to suppress smirks of anticipation. Scully had barely gotten through the door, and a strawberry in her mouth before Mulder was on her, leaving sloppy kisses down the column of her neck. Her head fell back against the door and she involuntarily moaned. When his teeth scraped along her skin, she pushed him away, giggling, "Mulder!"</p><p>"Yes?" he chuckled. He looked at her with the smile of a long lost puppy, and yet with eyes that bloomed with desire. She cupped his cheek, falling straight into those whirls of grey and hazel. Standing on her tip-toes, she leaned up to meet his lips. Softly and slowly, she kissed him and walked him to the bed: the strawberries forgotten on the table by the door. When the backs of his knees hit the mattress, he fell backwards and Scully followed, landing on top of him.</p><p>She braced herself, forearms laying on his chest, moving with the rise and fall of his breathing. Taking a moment, she let her eyes travel down to the pout of his lips, touching delicately with the tips of her fingers what she could see. She let out a breathy laugh like she had expected to find a mirage instead of his soft skin. The culmination of all their years together lay before her in its simplicity. She felt as though she were waking up from a surreal dream that was the last few months.</p><p>"I love you," she breathed against his lips, shaping a thousand promises with three words.</p><p>One of Mulder's hands wound through her hair, tresses of blonde spilling from his fingers. He leaned in to steal a small kiss, murmuring, "Love you too."</p><p>Scully smiled, dragging her finger along the lips that whispered of other-worldly wonders long into the night. Somewhere deep behind them was a heart that beat to her rhythm and a mind that shared the same thousand vows.</p><p>With her tongue she retraced the pilgrimage that her fingers made, teasing for something deeper. Mulder took the bait. His fist tightened in her hair and he met her fervently, slowly dancing with her like they were still twirling around on the beach. The sweet taste of strawberry and the pure essence of Scully captured his senses, flooding his veins as she worked her way under his skin and through his entire body. At his lungs, she took his breath away until she gently broke the lock of their lips. He couldn't help the little gasp that she drew from him.</p><p>A smile still on her face, she urged him up, lifting his top over his head. Her smile only grew when her nails scratched through the thatch of hair that adorned his chest and drew circles around his nipples. She bit her lip at the tender thrust of his hips in response.</p><p>Thumbing the smile at the corner of her mouth, Mulder gently took her puckered lip between his. His hands wrapped around her waist, hugging her closer. One nudged the hem of her t-shirt up, needing to remove the barriers between them; the other dipped to the small of her back, reliving the bliss of dancing with her in his arms. His heart pounded with the sudden rush of the memory. He didn't know why he had said it but he meant it. My beautiful wife. He needed her to know it was more than a slip of the tongue.</p><p>"I'm serious, Scully," he murmured from somewhere inside her mouth. "One day, we'll get out of this mess... And I'll make that promise to you..."</p><p>"I know," she hushed, at once aware of where his mind was racing, wanting nothing more than to believe him. She also knew it could never happen. But that didn't matter. In the moment they were their's– that was all that mattered: the way they felt together living in the present. It was what she had fought so hard for and what she was now learning to seize. "But I don't want to talk about that right now."</p><p>"Oh?" he smirked with an innocent tone. "What do you want to talk about?"</p><p>Scully grinned. "Shut up, Mulder."</p><p>She let her hands do the talking as they wandered down his torso. Straddled over his lap, she shimmied backwards until she was off the bed, standing before him. She placed a light touch to his knees and he instantly understood her meaning, opening them so she could step closer. Her fingers walked up his thighs, meeting together over the prominent bulge showing in his pants. She bit her lip as she worked the fasten carefully, taking her time.</p><p>Mulder groaned when he saw the look on her face. "Scully, you're killing me."</p><p>Her eyes flickered up to his and he thought he would catch alight under their playful, glimmering heat. She saw him wholly and completely like he was the only thing in the world– he was her world– and the giggle she couldn't help was like a new dawn that lit it up. She used to giggle all the time: now less so. Whilst he knew it was partially his fault, he treasured everyone he was blessed with: now more so.</p><p>He toed his shoes and socks off as Scully finally had his pants undone and, with his help, down his legs. Casting them aside, she stepped out of her own shoes and socks, gazing at Mulder in all his splendor, only a thin piece of cotton left that was doing nothing to disguise his arousal.</p><p>"I feel a little overdressed," she chuckled.</p><p>He reached for her hand, rubbing circles reverently across the back of her hand. "You know, you could easily do something about that."</p><p>She rolled her eyes and took off her pants but left on her t-shirt, making Mulder pout. Gently, she pushed on his shoulders and he played along, falling back onto the mattress. Tongue subconsciously wetting her lip, she eased him out of his boxers, smiling when he sprung free.</p><p>He expected her to climb on top of him and bury him with her presence, her lithe body somehow adept at swamping his own frame. He didn't expect when she took him in her hands that it would be accompanied by the stroke of her tongue. Breath caught in his throat, he had to grasp the bedsheets when her mouth descended on him, the initial surprise almost too good to register.</p><p>Scully was worried that she had done something wrong but the tension in his body slowly released itself, alleviating her along with it. It had been a long time since they had done this and she regretted that she'd pushed him to go hard and fast in the past just to escape her own thoughts. She missed this: enjoyed the little whimpers and groans she could conjure from him. She missed them. It felt good to take back some control in the chaos of their lives; she liked the responsibility of taking care of him this way.</p><p>She continued to work her tongue around his shaft, swirling around the head and flattening on the way down, testing how far she could take him. His hips twitched in restrain when she nudged him to the back of her throat, so she let up a little and sought out his hand, twining their fingers together and squeezing as if to say relax: it's okay.</p><p>"Scully, please..." he warned, managing to open his eyes long enough to see that she had heard him.</p><p>"Sorry," she smiled, crawling up the bed towards him. "I was enjoying myself."</p><p>"And me too apparently," he laughed, running his hands up her sides and taking her t-shirt with him. They snaked around her shoulder blades and beckoned her down into a sweet kiss before he pulled the top over her head. Her ruffled hair fell about her bare shoulders in mesmerising waves. Mulder tucked a strand behind her ear, aware that he was probably wearing the goofiest grin, a mirror to the one spread across Scully's countenance.</p><p>He braced her as they rolled over, her hair now splayed across the bed like a lion's mane. Hovering over her, he took a moment to detail the intricacies of her beauty like it was the first time before descending down the bed. Careful to avoid her breasts, he continued until he was kneeling on the floor.</p><p>Scully sat up on her elbows, peering down at him with a raised eyebrow. "Where are you going?" she asked, although she knew, she just wanted him on top with her.</p><p>He lifted her legs over his shoulders with a cocky smile, pulling her to the edge. "You really thought you wouldn't get tit for tat?"</p><p>She rolled her eyes and laughed, but put up no fight when he put his mouth to use.</p><p>Mulder rested at the crest of her thighs, leaving blossoming flowers of love bites on the inside of each, building anticipation until it hung closely in the air. He broke the spell, dragging his tongue leisurely through her arousal until he reached the peak. Placing his hands across her stomach, he took note of the swell of her breath and the shudders that rippled through her, tuning himself to her body like every word she offered was a literary masterpiece he was fortunate enough to have a translation for. When he sensed her rhythm was off kilt, he laid his chin on his hands and gazed at her furrowed brow.</p><p>"What's wrong?" he asked.</p><p>"It... I don't know... feels strange," she mused.</p><p>"Do you want me to stop?"</p><p>"Don't even think about it," she uttered with an impish smirk.</p><p>Mulder dove back down, easing her with the softest of touches to the brink. It took longer than usual, slowly building the intensity of his strokes and plunges, drawing circles like ripples in ponds. There was something different about the way she moved in response; the way she felt under his tongue; the way she tasted tangier than usual. Then again, it had been a while since they had done this. And he missed it: the intimacy and care and devotion that flourished between them in the private darkness between the days. When the world was on the precipice of another tomorrow, they could roll around in the sheets of today and he would venerate all that was Scully. Never a religious man, he would spend hours at her altar, drinking holy water from her font whilst prayers fell from her parted lips. And the plentiful gasps and moans she left as offerings were a familiar and homely constant that he gathered in abandon.</p><p>He chuckled– the vibrations lighting her up like a Christingle– at the sacrilegious image that for him this was an act of confession. And with his recent absence from the confessional, Mulder had a litany of delicious sins to tell.</p><p>Her hand wound through his hair, her steel-tight grip tugging at his head with enthusiasm as her back arched hips lurched off the body. Her toes curled and he grunted as her heels dug into his back. He plunged in two fingers, drawing out her climax, waiting for that ultimate prayer.</p><p>"Ah! God, Mulder," she gasped.</p><p>Finally, he felt her quiver awash with sated pleasure. He lifted his head with a smile, chin glistening, and she laughed at his eager expression.</p><p>"Better?" he quipped.</p><p>She rolled her eyes, chest still heaving with shallow breaths. "If I say yes, will it wipe that smug smile off your face?"</p><p>His grin only broadened.</p><p>"Mulder, shut up," she whispered.</p><p>He scooped her up in his arms and shuffled on his knees across the bed. Scully had to bite her lip to stifle a giggle, being carried bridal-style seeming all at once completely ridiculous yet right. She relaxed into the strength of his arms supporting her and allowed herself to be transported like she allowed herself to be whirled around by him in the past, holding his hand as they chased mystery and adventure. It always felt right to go along with him– especially on the completely ridiculous. So, she wrapped her arm around his neck, the picture of his mouth still doing things to her even though she was bathing in a warm, fuzzy glow, and kissed his shiny, pink lips, momentarily distracting him. He stumbled and they fell into the pile of pillows at the head of the bed.</p><p>"Scully!" he laughed.</p><p>"Yes?" she deadpanned. </p><p>He wanted to say that he missed this mischievous side to her, the smile on her face, and the laughter in her lungs, that seeing them all return felt like a dream come true. He sighed contently, letting his thoughts exhale before he cursed the moment.</p><p>A whisper of understanding passed in her eyes and in her smile, and she leaned in to kiss the sigh from his lips. She held onto him, cupping his cheeks with tenderness as if he would slip away if she let go. Pushing his tousled hair back, she ran her fingers down his sideburns and dragged her lips over his, tempting his tongue into her mouth. </p><p>He slowly pulled away, the lingering tingle of her lips ever-present. Kissing her forehead, he brought them together, steadily sheathing himself in her up to the hilt.</p><p>"Oh, God," she whispered, feeling so full she might burst. She sought his eyes hooded above, drowsy with lust and reverence. He soothed her, brushing his thumbs along her eyebrows and peppering kisses along her hairline, down her nose, and on her cheeks, waiting for her to tell him she was okay.</p><p>"I'm good," she eventually breathed, "but wait a second." She pushed him over and straddled his hips, reveling in the way he filled her. Gently, she ground against him in circles, eliciting sensations in places she could hardly imagine. "Okay, now I'm good," she laughed. </p><p>Mulder's mind went into oblivion when she started to roll her hips. Her hands were everywhere on him: his chest, his arms, his shoulders, and through his hair, leaving trails of burning desire in their wake. He steadied himself with his hands on her hips, guiding the oscillation of her body like a deep-sea current, each wave from her coursing through him larger and rougher than the last. In the eye of the storm, Scully placed a hand over his at her hip, tenderly removing it so she could lace her fingers through his. Together they squeezed each other's hand: they were okay. </p><p>Their tangled hands landed above his head, bringing their tangled bodies closer together. They traded kisses and soft smiles, forging their love in the fires of hope, burning bright enough to stave off the hungry darkness. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Scully woke up to morning light filtering through the blinds, her head and her arm resting on Mulder's bare chest. The rise and fall of his breaths were almost enough to lull her back to sleep, curled tightly around his warm body, but she kept her eyes open enjoying the quiet. She pulled Mulder's t-shirt that she was wearing to her nose, breathing in its smell. She hummed and closed her eyes. </p><p>The still was suddenly broke by a coiling feeling tightening in her gut. It shot through her, climbing up her throat. Panic rising with the bile, she rushed to the bathroom, only just getting there in time to lift the lid of the toilet. She wretched although her stomach was empty, the sound cutting through her like nails on a chalkboard. Her medical mind took over, speculating possibilities and eliminating them as quickly. She didn't have a fever, a headache, dizziness, none of the usual accompanying symptoms...</p><p>The nausea, the cravings, the tenderness. She wanted to curse herself, but of course, it wasn't possible. It hadn't been possible the first time. She flushed the toilet and got up. Looking in the mirror everything looked fine; she looked normal; she seemed normal. She shook her head: she was just being paranoid. It was probably all psychosomatic. She was just seeing patterns that weren't there.</p><p>Running the water, she cupped her hands underneath the stream to drink from and splashed her face as well. Mulder appeared behind her, his calming aura alerting her to his presence before he even soothed her nerves with the simple touch of his hand on her waist. He rested his head on top of hers, his sleepy, half-open eyes finding hers in the mirror.</p><p>"You left me," he mumbled. "Is everything okay?"</p><p>"Yeah, I just..." she trailed off not knowing really what to say. Instead, she turned into his arms and tried to relax. Everything was fine.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I should probably mention that I now have a Tumblr, you can find me as brynstein.<br/>Also, I am probably not gonna update this as often over the next coming months (I know I'm not the best at updating anyway) because of other projects. But this is by no means over :)</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Together Towards Entropy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With the last box packed, Margaret Scully locked the door to her daughter's apartment for the final time and handed the key over to the landlord, who mumbled his appreciation and ambled back down the hall. Maggie was left there, standing by the shut door like it was the final page turned and the chapter ending. She shook the thought from her head, knowing it was a silly one. It was never over: God has his way of bringing people back together.</p><p>Back in her own home, Maggie put the final boxes into the guest room all of their things safe under her roof. All of the furniture had been sold-- that was mostly inconsequential-- but everything else was here. Taking a final look at the room, she hummed. It was like she could feel the physical presence of Dana in everything she had loved, cherished, and lived with.</p><p>Closing the door, she padded down the stairs and into the living room where the glow from the fishtank illuminated the room. She checked the temperature of the tank water, watching the mollies swim around in the bag that floated on top. She could tell they were eager to return. To their familiar surroundings, but the water wasn't warm enough just yet, but soon.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Scully quietly mused the breakfast menu, feeling calm and content sat in the booth of a Mexican restaurant. Mulder was sat on the other side of the table looking out of the window to the sun-speckled bay. His hand had been grasping hers under the table the entire time; his thumb traversing the mountain range of her knuckles repetitively.</p><p>"You seem happy," she commented, turning the page of the menu awkwardly with one hand.</p><p>"I am." He turned his attention to her, his smile fading slightly as his mind began to race ahead with implications. "Are you not?"</p><p>"No, I am," she sighed, continuing to puzzle over some of the dish names. Mulder lowered his head to try and get under her fixed gaze and her eyes flicked up to meet him. "What? I am happy."</p><p>Mulder sat back and nodded, smirking to himself.</p><p>Scully looked up from the menu, bringing their hands to rest on top of the table. "Have you had any more hallucinations?"</p><p>"No, I haven't actually." His head had been surprisingly clear since that night on the beach like his words had freed him when he'd finally shared them. He hoped it was the case.</p><p>A refreshing smile turned the corner of her mouth upwards and she subconsciously held his hand slightly tighter. "That's good."</p><p>"Hmm," he agreed, lost in her smile. Her hand was soft under his thumb, sparking gentle memories of her surrounding him and the bed sheets the last few days they had given in and spent every night in a motel, comfort of waking with her head laid against his chest a luxury beyond compare. It made a difference to the cold sweats she used to wake in, lurching from her position to escape the night terrors. On restless nights he had witnessed it, when only his arms could wrap around her and anchor her to this world as she gasped to gain control.</p><p>But not the last few days. She had woken as peacefully as he had slept, usually with a tiny speck of drool decorating his bare chest, which he didn't dare tease her about.</p><p>"And you've not had your nightmares for a while...Unless?"</p><p>She had rushed to the bathroom again this morning, although she had told him it was nothing to worry about.</p><p>"No, I haven't," she reassured him.</p><p>"Maybe we're finally getting it right then."</p><p>Scully laughed and shook her head. "I used to think we'd never get it right."</p><p>The past few months she'd forgotten what right felt like until she saw the familiar glimmer on the horizon that meant the sea and she'd persuaded Mulder to make a stop-off. That night, with the water at her feet, she felt something click, like the reassuring words of her father existed in the sea spray, telling her that she was loved and trusted. Being close to him had put her soul at ease. She still worried for her child in the world, for Mulder, for her mother so far away but that anxiety had eroded into a constant ebb of care for all of them.</p><p>"I saw a little place down the road that does postcards, I thought we could pick one up later. We could start a collection. Maybe even do a scrapbook."</p><p>She licked her lip and bit back a smile. Of course, Mulder had found the one she had taken. It was impossible to keep secrets from him, especially given their current circumstances.</p><p>"Yes, that would be nice."</p><p>Giving the menu one final look over she handed it to Mulder as she stood up and moved out of the booth.</p><p>"Can't find anything?"</p><p>He looked up at her and she stroked his hair affectionately as she walked past, making him grin.</p><p>"Just order for me whatever you're having. I'm going to the restroom."</p><p>Taking her hand, he kissed her palm, and gently let her go.</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>Scully moved through the bar to the back, pushing against the door to the restroom. It was quiet inside, a welcoming contrast to the constant hum of conversation. She brushed her hair out of her face, holding her palm to her forehead, trying to quieten the loud ache that resided there. Standing in front of the mirror, she considered herself and smiled. Once again, she could recognise the person in the mirror, despite the unfamiliarity still of her longer blonde hair. The dark rings from under her eyes had disappeared and there was a warmth to her cheeks again underneath her dusting of freckles. She shook her head, foolish thoughts of happiness flooding her mind. But they were good. She was good.</p><p>And then she felt the clenching in her gut again, not as powerful as this morning, but enough to make her lurch. Splashing some cold water to her face, she refreshed herself, sweeping other thoughts under the carpet. She cupped her hands under the water and brought it to her mouth to drink, tempering her queasiness and headache.</p><p>By the time she got back, Mulder had already ordered and a glass of orange juice was waiting for her on the table.</p><p>"I chose the huevos rancheros. It's the specialty dish and I thought you deserve a treat for putting up with me this last couple of months." He smirked mischievously and then he turned sombre. "I know I haven't always been there for you when you needed, Dana, and you're still here for me–"</p><p>She brought his hand to hold it against her cheek.</p><p>"Of course, I am," she interrupted, which made his smile reappear.</p><p>They waited in companionable silence for their brunch, never deciding whether to gaze out at the bay or at each other. When the food came, Scully made her way through the large portion of fried eggs, which Mulder raised his eyebrows at but didn't question.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Midday and they were back on the road driving to nowhere, an appetising silence filling the space. Mulder's hand rested on her leg and Scully had her fingers twined through his. He kept stealing frequent glances at her, smiling every time he caught a glimpse of the freckles that dusted her rosy cheeks, or the curl of her lips, or her red roots showing through her blonde hair-- the Scully he loved reappearing from behind the cracks in her walls.</p><p>"Do you ever think about him? Our son?" She broke his spell of reverie and looked at him inquisitively. "What he might be doing at this very moment whilst we are miles away?"</p><p>He sighed and gently squeezed her hand. "Dana, you know the answer to that."</p><p>"I know... I wanted to hear it from someone else."</p><p>She continued to look at him with a softness that almost broke him and he paused for a moment, remembering holding his tiny baby. It seemed so long ago and wished there was more to remember, but he held them with fondness, the phantom feeling of his tiny fingers wrapped around his little one, never letting him forget. Those fingers would be bigger now, stronger, but he could still feel them. He clenched his fists on the steering wheel reflexively.</p><p>"Not a day goes by when I don't think of how well he'll be doing and how proud I am of him."</p><p>"Not a day goes by where I don't think the same." She looked out towards the glistening of the sea with a frown knitted into her brow. "It... It's strange... learning to love someone from afar... Accepting... that we only a small part of his life now takes some getting used to."</p><p>Mulder swallowed apprehensively, his heart clenching around her words pinning precisely how he had felt out in the desert and now.</p><p>"Dana?" His voice was pricked with worry. "What's brought this on?"</p><p>"I don't know," she sighed.</p><p>Pressing the cool flesh of her fingers to her forehead, she sucked in a breath. Every lump in the road seemed amplified with the motion of the car. The churning of the tires over asphalt mimicked the churning in her stomach.</p><p>"Stop the car. I need to get out," she whispered.</p><p>"Scully?"</p><p>She gulped a breath and managed to raise her voice a little. "Stop the car!"</p><p>As soon as Mulder had pulled over to the side of the road, Scully was out of the car and doubled over, the contents of her brunch returning. Initially, shock had caught him like a deer in headlights, but Mulder rushed to her side and swept the hair from her face, anxiously clenching his jaw.</p><p>"Jeez Scully," he breathed, rubbing her back.</p><p>Coughing, she stood up and brushed away his hand.</p><p>"It's okay, Mulder. I'm fine."</p><p>He cupped her cheeks, wiping some spittle from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, and gazed into her welling, blue eyes. Back-dropped by the ocean, they glistened surrendering to something solemn deep inside. He sighed and pulled her into his chest.</p><p>"You forget I know what 'I'm fine' means."</p><p>She let his words hang in the air, trying to avoid them but only hurtling towards inevitable admittance. With her head cradled between his hand and chest, she let the tiniest tear form and fall.</p><p>He stood still for her like that, absorbing her sniffs, stroking her hair, never questioning her need to let go and have control over herself. She tried to stay rigid and unmoving and he feared that she was drawing into herself again, hiding from him to protect herself again. That their rhythm was out of sync again after things felt like they were falling into place. In reality, he knew it had only been a couple of months since they had started this journey: no time at all. He couldn't expect deep wounds to heal with one plaster of good fortune. But it had already felt like years of waiting, and he was tired, exhausted from the grief, wanting to move on. Maybe they weren't ready to move on yet.</p><p>"I feel fine, Mulder." She pressed the words muffled into his chest. "Better than I have in a while but... I-- I don't think I am... fine."</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>She lifted her head from his chest but still couldn't look him in the eye, ashamed that she might have kept something so important from him. "I think I might be ill. From either stress or a virus, I don't know. But I've had migraines and nausea for some time now."</p><p>She watched as his eyes softened with compassion, and she felt more guilty for ever thinking he shouldn't know.</p><p>"Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"</p><p>He brought his hands to her face more gently this time as if he were holding delicate china, his thumbs soothing over the pattern of her cheeks. Scully placed her hands on his arms, pulling them away.</p><p>"I didn't want you to worry, especially with your own condition. And I thought it would pass."</p><p>"Scully, you need to let me worry." He wanted to cup her cheeks again, to feel the reassuring weight of her press against his skin. He looked down at where their hands slowly swung like a cradle between them, all their worry turned to motion as it tried to escape. "What do you need?"</p><p>"Some ginger ale and some painkillers for the symptoms." Her tone took on a cold and measured value, detached from feeling and from herself as doctor Scully took over.</p><p>"For the cause?"</p><p>"I should probably see a doctor."</p><p>He nodded solemnly. "Okay. Let's get you some ginger ale and pain killers first."</p><p>Mulder guided her back to the car, his hand like it always had been, a rudder at her back. She didn't shy away from his touch and even gave him a smile from one corner of her mouth. She sat down clumsily in the passenger seat, grasping onto Mulder's arm to steady herself.</p><p>"We'll get through this." Scully looked up at him earnestly. "Us both."</p><p>"I should be the one saying that to you, Scully."</p><p>She gave him an honest smile, letting him know that what she had said was true: she did feel fine. Even better than that, she felt good-- great-- until another wave of nausea hit, but it never lasted long. She was more worried about him than she was herself.</p><p>Time seemed to drag along with each steady revolution of the wheels. Mulder was driving extra slowly, conscious of Scully who had the window wound down and the fresh air blowing in to keep her nausea at bay. She looked radiant even though she was struggling to keep the rest of her breakfast down. The sun danced through her golden hair and over her skin, lighting little kisses of freckles across the flush of her cheeks.</p><p>He felt her small hand reach across and squeeze his knee, and although he was focusing on the road, he could tell she was smiling, gazing at the city they were driving through. Her index finger was probably over her lips, her arm resting on the door like she did whenever she was quietly happy. Mulder kissed the back of her hand before pulling into a grocery store parking lot.</p><p>"You coming?" she asked as she got out of the car, hope sprung in her voice.</p><p>He grinned. "I wouldn't dream of leaving."</p><p>Inside, the ginger ale and tablets were easy enough to find, but it was something else in the health aisle that had made Mulder stop. He felt like his heart had stopped and the air had stopped moving in his lungs. The only thing that hadn't stopped was his mind whirring at a million miles an hour, escaping down a rabbit hole without him and he was left to chase after the implications.</p><p>"Mulder? Are you okay?" She tugged on his arm.</p><p>"Yeah. I'm good..." He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "Have you thought..."</p><p>Scully stepped in front of his gaze,</p><p>"Have I thought what?"</p><p>She turned around and followed his line of sight like a red piece of string held in the air, connected to him stretched out beyond her. It was almost tangible the way he was focused so intensely like she could trail it with her fingers. She too stopped when she caught sight of what held his attention, the breath knocked out of her.</p><p>"Mulder don't be ridiculous. You and I both know it's impossible," she breathed.</p><p>He reached for the innocuous box, holding it tentatively.</p><p>"When was the last time you got your period? You haven't used any of the tampons we bought. It's been almost two months."</p><p>Anger broiled in her gut, wanting so desperately for him not to be correct. She hadn't thought about the tampons, why hadn't she thought about the tampons? She pushed aside all rationality in denial, feeding that fire that she might not recognise the pain.</p><p>"Mulder, just because I missed my period does not mean I am pregnant." Her voice was shaky with restrained emotion. "It's normal to miss a month once in a while, and with the stress of our current situa--"</p><p>"Just, please. And then we can rule it out for definite."</p><p>He looked mellowly at her, eyes soft with a mix of affection and concern, and she felt her resolve puddle.</p><p>"Fine," she sighed, half snatching the kit from him in her frustration.</p><p>He felt her rip at his heart as she grabbed it and he wanted to take it back, wish he never thought of it himself. She was frightened, he could tell in the way she projected her strength. But her strength only pushed him away from where he wanted to be most. He blamed himself for bringing this upon her, that he couldn't help her without harming her. He gently took her hand back and she looked at him, holding back tears that threatened to fall, holding back a heaviness in her breathing like cries threatening to spill. It made him queasy seeing the look that had haunted him the last couple of months return. Like a ghost, he saw her desperately cling onto everything familiar whilst inside she was starting to strip herself empty, using numbness as a defence. He wanted to give her back the smile that she had had earlier, fill her back up with laughter and love. He looked at the box.</p><p>Scully turned, slipping out of his hands to find the checkout. "You coming?"</p><p>Yeah, he thought.</p><p>Scully was silent in an all too familiar, daunting way. She stood in front of him, strong but rigid, confident but scared as she paid for the ginger ale, the paracetamol... the pregnancy test. He winced as she reached her hand back to touch his, felt the tremours brush through her fingertips as she stayed rigid.</p><p>She reached her hand back to ground herself in him, control the dizzying, drunk feeling of floating in a void of uncertainty. She was burning up from the inside with an injustice she tried to ignore, and the feel of his skin was cool enough to douse her and keep her anchored. Whatever happened she wanted him there, and she wanted him to know that. Whatever happened it was for both of them. She only hoped to god it wouldn't be true.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Her fate was already sealed, she knew that, but if she prayed hard enough she felt like she could twist reality in her favour. Mulder was waiting outside the restroom and she was alone inside, holding the test between her fingers. The cap clicked loudly as she removed it from the tip of the test. Suddenly, her heart started to thump in her throat and her stomach tried to work its way up to meet it. Taking deep breaths, she did her best to push that anxious part of herself down. Her fate was sealed, and she wanted to trust God, whatever he had decided for her, but she wasn't sure she could. She wasn't sure he was still there for her. The only thing she could do was take the test.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Mulder heard the toilet flush and, tipping his head back against the wall, he held his breath. He was leaning against the wall that separated him from Scully, waiting for the verdict. He didn't know what he wanted, except for Scully to be okay. He held onto that idea lest he start thinking of futures that could never be.</p><p>The restroom door opened and he stood up, watching Scully as she quietly walked out.</p><p>"Do we know yet?"</p><p>"No, we'll have to wait a few minutes."</p><p>She kept her head hung low, avoiding his gaze.</p><p>"Do you want to go and wait in the car?"</p><p>He touched her cheek and she startled, offering a weak smile when she saw his.</p><p>"Umm, yeah."</p><p>Mulder held the test level as they walked out, Scully clutching his other hand. She took a sip of the ginger ale, but it did nothing to quell the nerves brewing in her. Her walk was unsteady as she tried to ignore the other people around her. There was only her and Mulder in the world, but the loud intrusions of other people talking, of traffic, tested her to her limits.</p><p>Mulder leaned down to whisper in her ear, "It's okay: no one is watching us." and Scully smiled, reassured that his uncanny ability to read her was still strong. She leaned into his arm. Us, she thought, together in spite of the outcome<em>. </em></p><p>They both sat in an itchy silence waiting for the time to pass, Scully stock still and Mulder fidgeting with his fingers. It was only a few minutes but it felt like hours, constantly checking the radio clock. The illuminated digits didn't change quick enough, every time they looked back at them they were the same as if time was standing still. Or at least time was going slower, edging towards entropy, the final moments before the answer closer and incrementally closer like Schrodinger's cat finally getting a diagnosis. Until she reached to turn the test over.</p><p>Scully looked at the stick and sat back, putting it back face down on the dashboard.</p><p>Mulder picked it up and a sudden surge of joy infected him, a grin spreading across his features. Two lines. Until he looked at Scully, whose eyebrows were pinched together as she stared up at the sunroof. Slowly she closed her eyes and let a single tear fall.</p>
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